


The Blink of an Eye

by arimabat



Series: deterministic chaos [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asgard (Marvel), Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Canon Divergence - Thor (2011), Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki is a mess, Odin (Marvel)'s A+ Parenting, POV Heimdall, POV Loki (Marvel), POV Maria Hill, SHIELD, Second Chances, Sneaky Frigga (Marvel), Suicide Attempt, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-05-24 11:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 65,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14953608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arimabat/pseuds/arimabat
Summary: When Heimdall lies dying on the Statesman among the remains of his people, he decides to use his powers for a different purpose. In a desperate attempt to change Asgard's fate, he sends a message to his past self warning of Loki's deception.





	1. 1.1

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT:  
> This is completed now. Fun ride, hopefully will have a sequel!  
> Adding a warning here that this fic does deal with issues of mental health and suicide specifically.  
> Hope you enjoy, do please send loads of comments and you can find me on Tumblr at [@arimabat](https://arimabat.tumblr.com).

 “Hear me and rejoice!” 

Once more, his eyes had failed him. What good was a watcher who never seemed to know when a threat was approaching? Unable to see this ship, whether through his own negligence or whether by some sinister magic he knew not, unable to stop Hela from returning, unable to sense Loki’s deception until it was too late and the trickster had seized the throne, unable to see the dark elves before they had already attacked Asgard… And that first time, that very first time an enemy had escaped his watch, once again the young prince’s doing, while Asgard’s gatekeeper was unable to prevent it. Now, he lay in the midst of his slaughtered people, unable to save them.

“The universal scales tip toward balance because of your sacrifice.”

What balance was this? Had Asgard not once been guardian of the peace, or had that only ever been an illusion? Loki might not share blood with Odin but he had certainly inherited a gift for deception. Why were his thoughts so bitter now? What point in thinking treasonous thoughts turned at those who he had sworn to serve?

“… Thanos.”

So the titan had come. At last. And Asgard was… Asgard was diminished to a few people. That was it. Thousands of years of history, however bloody, did not deserve to whither within a few short years.

_You fool. It was not only Asgard’s king you swore an oath to, you know._

He sighed as the ghostly voice came to him, perhaps a sign that the end was near. Would he see its owner again soon? Little did it matter, of course - like all things, that particular relationship had come second to his duties. The duties he had failed so spectacularly at.

“I know what it’s like to lose. To feel so desperately that you’re right, yet to fail nonetheless.”

Gathering some of his last energy as the golden helmet weighed down his head like it never had before, he raised himself a little to see for himself the titan. How ironic was it that he who was blessed with the eyes that saw all now had to prop himself up in so painful a fashion, just to get a glimpse of their downfall?

_There is no fate worse than this._

_I know_ , he wanted to call out at the ghost. _I know_. The all-seeing eyes were not meant for tears and yet they were barely repressed now. It had been the people of Asgard he had been faithful to, more even than to its king. Even if the universe could still be saved, what did he care? His people were no more. The realisation sent a spasm of pain running through his wretched body, so weak it could have been two thousand years older, as he watched the two princes and the titan.

“Oh I do. Kill away.”

It was a bluff. He knew it, the prince knew it, the titan knew it. But as he watched a tear trickle down the trickster’s face, he let himself embrace the bitterness at the future Asgard had been denied. It should not have been like this.

“All right, stop!”

Could the wretched boy not have understood himself before now?

 _No son of Odin could ever hope to understand himself_.

Now there was a truth that could not be escaped. And in death, why not accept these treasonous thoughts? If only he had known what Odin’s decisions would lead to… If only someone could have kept the prince safe from his father’s lies…

“I assure you brother, the sun will shine on us again.”

And in that moment, he realised the prince did not intend to survive this encounter. He would do what it took to ensure his brother’s safety, no more and no less. A flicker of some emotion passed through the gatekeeper’s heart - what was it? Admiration? How surprising, but not entirely unpleasant. The trickster would have done well to discover this side of himself before now.

 _Now you’re just being an idiot_.

The massive green Midgardian pounced at the titan as the ghost’s words sunk in, just as one brother threw himself at the other, shielding him with his body. Loki had not just discovered his selflessness - he had long had it in him. If only… 

 _Stop with your if only’s. You can change this_.

No. He would not tamper with that which should not be tampered with, even at death’s gate. The consequences…

_Asgard is gone. Face it, moron, we’re pretty much in the worst timeline here._

Not if the universe ended by his actions.

_He’s about to have two stones. Universe isn’t looking great, is it? Besides, why care about the universe? Your vows were to Asgard. Which is gone._

Asgard is a people, not a place. 

_You mean the corpses you’re using to prop yourself up with? Those people?_

In another time, another place, such harsh words might have offended him. He might have looked solemnly at the woman whose dark wit would never cease to taunt him, even from beyond the grave. But now, there was no time for dignity. Death would come soon and in death, they were all equal. It was time.

 _Not before you do what you have to. Or are you too much of a coward?_  

What would he even say? There was no time, no time to explain. No time to find the words to tell his past self anything of meaning. Dark magic could only do so much and what good could a sentence do?

_Your years have given you little in the way of wisdom, it seems. Don’t you get it? You don’t need to change the right thing. Just change anything, anything at all. And then hope for a better world. Because it can’t get any worse._

But what? Which one of his countless failures should he correct? How could he choose? 

A ghostly laugh. _Isn’t that obvious? Your first mistake. Mistake in watching, I mean. Not, you know, your other terrible decisions. Because we’d be here forever trying to correct those, now wouldn’t we?_  

Letting the frost giants in. But you, he thought sadly, would still be dead.

_That’s quite all right. I know you’ll join me eventually, I had just hoped it’d be a lot later than this._

Just a delusion, of course - the real owner of the voice would not be so keen for him to live.

_Only so I don’t have to see you again in the afterlife, you doofus._

Ah, there it was.

There was no time. No time for anything but a single sentence. A way to right a single mistake and hope his past self would figure things out from there. And maybe… maybe a prince stripped of his titles would grow wiser. It had happened before, had it not? Just maybe to the wrong prince. 

“Allfathers, let the dark magic flow through me one last time,” he muttered as his eyes shone brighter than they had in a long time, reaching not through space but through time as they summoned words he held so strongly and clearly in his mind’s eye. Strong enough that his past self could not help but see them, would know that something so grievous had befallen Asgard that he would risk tempering with time itself, something no watcher had ever done, had ever dared to do. Clear enough that the words would serve as a warning more laden with meaning than the message - trite and simple - itself could do, heavy with their implications in ways he could only trust his past self to understand. It was fortunate that he did not have to go far and yet his heart burned with the knowledge of how their ruin had come in what was little more than the blink of an eye - but a blink, a temporary blindness of the all-seeing eyes, that was all it had taken. This time, next time, last time…. He would not blink again. 

**Loki is letting Jötnar into the Vault. Tell Odin.**

* * *

  _Eight years earlier - Midgard_

 

“So you have your hands full?”

Agent Maria Hill, who had been inspecting a handheld monitor propped on her lap, looked up guiltily. “Sorry, Aaron. It’s all kind of blowing up. Again.”

“Let me guess. Stark?”

Maria nodded, then wondered for a moment if she was allowed to say as much. After all, Aaron was still suspended. Then again he could check the news as easily as anyone else. “The director spends half his time chasing after him these days.”

“You don’t approve?”

Maria scowled. “Come on, Aaron.”

“Right, right. Can’t slag off the director over the phone. Who knows who might be listening.”

The agent sighed and leaned back in her chair, placing the handheld on the table. “I’m looking forward to seeing you, you know.”

“That makes one person,” he said, whether in bitterness or in humour she could no longer tell. It was enough to remind her… Not that the scars weren’t visible. She had just… Learnt to forget.

“Sahar might object to that.”

“Sahar doesn’t care about how I look as long as I tell her cool stories about making stuff explode.”

“Not too cool, I hope?” asked Maria with a frown.

“Don’t worry, I’m not betraying national secrets. You worry too much, sis.”

How could she not? But she decided to let it slide, instead allowing herself to be glad that Aaron would be there in less than a day. “I appreciate your discretion,” she instead said, rather dryly.

“You organised the visa for Sahar?”

“Agent Rosenberg has sorted it all.”

“Having a big cheese big sister does come with benefits after all,” said Aaron, his voice lightly teasing.

“I look forward to meeting Sahar.”

“Yeah, well. She’s just a friend, remember, so don’t get all… Embarrassing.”

“I’m not embarrassing! And she’s not _just_ a friend. I want to thank her.”

“Don’t be all embarrassing about that either. Sahar’s cool but she’s not a big fan of SHIELD. Kinda shaky on the whole America thing too.”

“As long as she doesn’t say that at the airport.”

“She’s not an idiot. Just intense. Don’t get into a debate with her about history is all I’m saying. Or anything, really.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Maria tried to smile, aware of how tense she must look but also knowing she had to get back to work. “See you soon, little bro. Safe travels.”

“See you soon, Maria.”

As the connection was ended, Maria picked up the handheld again, looking down at the screen at the blinking alert. _Stark birthday party_. She sighed and dismissed it, wishing she didn’t live in a world where she had to be aware when some loud-mouthed playboy’s birthday was. But apparently now SHIELD had become a baby-sitting organisation for one guy with weapons he had no idea how to use responsibly. _I have successfully privatized world peace_ , rang his voice in her mind. Maria snorted. What an arrogant fool.

In the coming days, she would look back wistfully to a time when Tony Stark was her biggest problem.

* * *

 Loki woke up.

For a moment, he felt almost peaceful. Just a single moment, then gone. Today was the day. He stared at the vaulted ceiling, high above yet still somehow restricting, the plan he had made replaying in his mind. It was so simple, so neat, as all the best plans were. Dramatic in its nature, yet hardly significant in its consequences. A little fun.

And yet, Loki could not help but feel a little apprehension. Letting Asgard’s greatest enemies into the vault of the king should not be done lightly… But it was not as if they would actually manage to steal anything. What if someone discovered what he had done, what he was about to do? No, impossible. The magic had been cast too carefully. Not even Heimdall would know… One day, this would be little more than a fun story. Or maybe not, depending on how stupidly Thor reacted.

A small smile formed at the thought. Thor, after all, hardly deserved the throne. A rash, arrogant fool with a childlike view of the universe was not ready to be king. What was Odin thinking? Why give that idiot the throne?

_Well, who was he going to give it to? You?_

Loki tried to dismiss the taunting voice even though he knew that there was some truth to its words. As if Odin would ever have given him the throne. Not when the perfect Thor was there. Strong Thor, noble Thor. The man every Asgardian woman would give up an arm to be with. Loved by everyone, admired even more for his fierceness on the battlefield. Their ‘friends’ might tolerate Loki, but they adored Thor. And if Thor ever bored of Loki’s antics, as was surely bound to happen, they would turn away from him too. In a heartbeat. While Loki remained trapped in this castle. Never to escape. Sometimes he wished he could just cease to exist all together.

There was a tightness in his throat that he could not quite dismiss, however much he wanted to. It had been a thousand years since their father had told them they were both born to be kings and the words still echoed in Loki’s ears. How could both of them be kings when there was only one throne? Unless one of them died… He dismissed that thought quickly, too painful to consider. No, it had just been a strategy. A way to get his two sons to compete, a simple manipulation of the type the Allfather so effectively executed. And they had competed. Ferociously. But that was over now. It had always been clear that Thor would be the one. Today would simply be the confirmation. And what need would Thor have of him if Loki could no longer serve as his foil?

Not quite today…

Trying to shake the lethargy, Loki slowly slipped out of his bed and slunk to where he had laid out his formal wear. He saw his reflection in the golden helmet with the long horns. His short hair was frizzing up like a web of tiny broken twigs, framing a thin face that was always a step away from gaunt. So unlike the lush light hair of his brother. But the frizz at least could be remedied simply enough.

He got ready slowly, tending carefully to each feature of his appearance and clothing in turn. He knew that his brother would scoff at such rituals - ironic, given how fond the man was of his own looks - but he still diligently carried them out, mixing magic and moisturisers as he ensured that when the time came, nary a hair would be out of place. As he prepared physically, so too did he try to prepare his mind for the day’s tasks. Not just the usual layers of calm and indifference, but also the face of deception. He had to react perfectly, had to be outraged while still seeming cool and contained… Again, a twinge of worry, but it was easily suppressed. Lying was as easy to him as raising Mjølnir was to Thor. And there lay the difference between them, of course.

When Loki finished putting on everything save the helmet, he made his way to the door. He hesitated. It was still early - he had not slept well. Perhaps sleep deprivation was the cause of his restlessness. But he was not sure he wanted to spend much time with his family before the day’s events. Why make things harder than they had to be? No, he needed the fresh air. He needed open space. His father and brother would surely have withdrawn to complete their preparations. And what of his mother? Her, he did not want to face. If anyone could see through his lies… But surely, she too would be getting ready. After all, everything had to be perfect for Thor’s special day.

He left his quarters, making his way to one of the smaller palace courtyards, the one he and Thor had staked out as their own as children. It felt a little less a prison than the rest of the castle. A gush of warm wind hit him, Asgard as ever a little too warm for his tastes. He kept his quarters pleasantly cool - ‘chilly’, Thor might say - but out here… A simple cooling spell later and the discomfort was ameliorated. The plan ran through his head once again. If all went well, there was nothing more he had to do but to cast the cloaking spell. As long as those brutes were able to follow instructions correctly… His nose wrinkled in distaste at having to work with such lowlives, but sometimes such unpleasantries were necessary.

To his surprise, the courtyard was not empty.

Thor was pacing along the cobbled pathway, past the small trees planted on either side. Not yet wearing full ceremonial garments, but awake and alert. Could even the great Thor be feeling nervous?

Loki was about to retreat again, but with a vigilance Thor rarely possessed his older brother had spotted him. “Loki! Come down here!”

He suppressed a sigh as nerves once again flared in him, but slowly made his way down the short flight of stairs until he was facing his waiting brother.

“You’re awake,” said Loki, looking his brother up and down. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were taking this seriously.”

Thor grinned at his brother, as open and eager as ever. “Will you ever not mock me, brother?”

“Someone has to keep you honest.”

Thor started walking again and Loki fell into step next to him, gaze tracking the cobbled stones below.

“I hoped you would come,” said Thor.

Loki looked up, feeling a mixture of surprise and… something else. He said nothing.

“We used to play here as children, remember? And Mother, she would chase us down here.”

Loki smiled with little insincerity. Things had been simpler then, this courtyard a guardian of memories that belonged to him and Thor alone, not to the Warriors Three or Sif or even their father. Some of Loki’s best pranks had been executed here, some of his most vicious scoldings courtesy of Frigga had followed shortly after. They were all in good fun, then, with Loki being the focus of much of Thor’s attention. It was only later - when he would sneak away to the library only for Thor not to follow him, not to hunt him down and drag him back outside, when Thor was instead being taught by Odin or sparring with the guards - only later that things grew more complicated. And now they were to grow more complicated still.

Thor, never one for quiet contemplation, turned to his brother. “Mother is consulting with Father right now. I had hoped to see her before…”

“She has to prepare.”

“I know. “ Thor frowned a little. “Does Mother not spend ever more time in our Father’s presence?”

Loki too frowned, mostly in surprise at this unusually observant remark. “She does, yes.” He thought of their father, who seemed to grow ever more distant as the years passed. Was something compelling him to give up the throne sooner than he needed to?

“They will be able to rest more easily after today.”

Loki felt the urge to laugh at that but suppressed it. That was hardly likely. “Not much longer now,” he said in a soothing tone, then allowed himself to grin. “I _am_ looking forward to seeing the helmet.”

Thor snorted. “Stop it, brother. Not when you yourself have such fine horns.”

Loki shook his head but refrained from replying. “We had better head back,” he instead said.

Thor nodded as they turned to leave the courtyard. “Will I see you before the ceremony?”

“I can come to the anteroom. Make sure you look the part.”

“The part of king,” said Thor with a note of reverence in his voice. For a moment, Loki almost regretted the knowledge that his brother would not rise to the throne that day.


	2. 1.2

Heimdall gazed out at the universe.

It had been many years since his watch began. A duty he had in times past resented, once almost rejected. Not anymore. Now, there was simply the watch. Never ending. But always changing. Maybe changing more swiftly, these past few years, but he could not be sure. Contrary to what some less informed Asgardians might believe, a watcher could not see everything. Could not know everything. There were limits to his sight as there were to limits to all powers.

Anyone who might happen to watch the watcher might have believed him to be dead: standing perfectly still with no perceivable breath but with his shining gold eyes wide open. And in truth, he was a little less than alive. All those functions needed for life, to keep a body moving and thinking and feeling, were slowed dramatically during the watch until they barely existed at all. He rarely needed to leave this state, usually only when he perceived an approaching presence.

It was such a presence he sensed now.

Something struck him, like a rush of wind with a power that both burned and froze. A surge of dark magic accompanied it, scalding his every sense.

Heimdall tried to see it, hear it but… with a thudding realisation, he realised he could not.

 _How_ was this possible? Where did it come from?

He kept searching but felt blind as it came closer, closer - from where? - closer but from nowhere around him, travelling not through space but - he suddenly understood - through _time_.

It hit him, the power of the dark magic flaring in his skull as if a Bifrost had been opened in his head. His sight failed him and instead the many points in space he had seen before, he saw only the flicker of a white dot, separating and spiralling outwards into a million different wavelengths, forming what Midgardian eyes might call a perfect rainbow - and within them, small, ghostly letters.

 

**Loki is letting Jötnar into the Vault. Tell Odin.**

 

Many thoughts formed in Heimdall’s mind in that moment. Many were irrelevant to the actual crisis at hand. Quite a few of them involved the rudest words the Asgardian tongue had to offer. It took him several seconds until his mind calmed enough that he could focus the majority of his attention on what exactly was going on.

His future self had sent him a message. That much was obvious, but mind-blowing in its implications. This power availed to him by dark magic - to send the Bifrost not through the dimensions of space but that of time - was one he had only heard discussed theoretically. To meddle with time… Well, it was the oldest, most forbidden crime. To send even a few words back, a single warning, it risked the collapse of the universe at worst or the accidental creation of a terrible future at best. To send back such a message… Heimdall had to assume that the worst future had indeed come to pass.

There was nothing left to lose. Asgard had fallen.

Heimdall understood his own mind well, as only a being that had sat in thought for centuries could. He understood the implications his future self would want him to take from this short message, would knew his past self would have taken.

He knew that his own suspicions were confirmed and royal family intrigue would one day topple Asgard.

That the choices that had been made in regards to the youngest prince would indeed lead to catastrophe.

A thousand doubts he had accrued over the years flew into his mind now. He knew that, at death’s gate, he would surely regret not having acted on each one of them. But from the future came another chance. Not this time, he swore to himself. This time, he had to act differently.

Tell Odin. And what would happen then? Would Loki be killed? Locked away? Or perhaps banished? Was Loki the cause of Asgard’s ruin? No, in that case his future self would have not instructed him to tell Odin but instead to kill the prince and suffer the consequences as they came. Clearly, the gatekeeper had thought that there was hope for the young prince, maybe even that he could be crucial in saving Asgard. There was hope for Loki yet. But Heimdall needed to change his path and in changing that path, shift Asgard’s future too.

For a moment, Heimdall was almost impressed with the trickster, who was apparently to succeed at sneaking in frost giants without the knowledge of the gatekeeper. That required truly powerful magic. That instinct for mischief had always been with the boy, but his skill at lying could have been learnt from his father. Not his true father, of course… Was it any wonder that a thousand years of lies would eventually turn sour? Surely, Loki would find out at some point. But if he found it out himself, independently of his adopted father, things could end in disaster…

First things first. He had to follow the instruction laid out by his future self. Tell Odin.

The gatekeeper started moving, his limbs suddenly feeling much wearier than they had any right to. The weight of his world seemed to rest on his shoulders and he could not help but wish that he had walked away from this post long ago.

* * *

“This is Hill.”

“Update on New Mexico?”

“Nothing yet, but we’ll send a team down to see whether Foster and Selvig find anything interesting.”

Fury made a grunt-like noise. “Their readings looked _interesting_ all right. First time I’ve seen anything like it since -“

“Sir.”

“It’s your call, but you might want to get him on this.”

“He’s suspended for a reason. If it really is something like… whatever he did, I’d prefer it if he stays far away from it.”

A beat. Maria knew Fury wouldn’t be happy. But he simply said, “We’ll see.”

“How’s Stark?” asked Maria, keen to change the subject.

“Becoming ever more of a problem. One that I don’t have the time to deal with.”

“Sir, if you want me to relieve you…”

“On Stark duty? Better not. I’m about to talk to him and he knows me, at least.”

“You think he’ll listen to you?”

“I’ll make him.” Maria smiled at that. “Keep on monitoring New Mexico. See if it becomes a situation.”

“If it does, can I call in Coulson?”

There was a short pause. “Yes. Romanoff is already in place to deal with Stark. Only if it becomes a situation though.”

“Understood, sir.”

“I’ll see you in DC in a week, Commander.”

“Yes, sir.”

Maria hung up.

* * *

Loki and Thor were walking back to their quarters when a guard approached. Almost unconsciously, Loki stepped back a little, sure that the message was intended for Thor. But when the guard stopped, it was Loki his gaze fixed upon.

“The Allfather requests your presence in the Observatory.”

Loki frowned. “The Observatory? Are you sure?”

“That is what the Allfather said, yes.”

Loki inclined his head. “Thank you.”

The guard left briskly as the brothers looked at each other.

“What could he want? So soon before the coronation?” asked Thor, sounding as surprised as Loki felt.

“I don’t know.” He could not remember the last time their father had been in the Observatory, the station of the gatekeeper from which all of the Nine Realms could be accessed. There must be some mistake. Unless… A burning sensation settled in Loki’s chest as he thought of Heimdall and those terrible, orange eyes. Had they seen something? Impossible, he told himself. That did not stop tendrils of panic from enveloping his heart.

“I had better go,” said Loki, feeling like he was in a trance and unable to focus on his brother.

“I’ll come with you,” said Thor instantly.

“Better not. If Father requested my presence…”

“If this is some kind of emergency, I would like to know. I am to be king, after all.”

With a sick lurch, Loki knew he could not convince his brother otherwise. If their father was really calling them to… to expose Loki… How would Thor react? How could he? Loki could see his brother’s open, trusting face twisted in betrayal, rage, sorrow… Or maybe he would not even be surprised. Maybe Thor had always expected Loki to turn on him and would move on happily with his friends, no longer burdened with a lowly trickster for a brother.

No, he was being ridiculous. There was no way for Odin to know. There must be some other explanation. Maybe Odin wanted to talk to him about his new responsibility as Thor’s advisor… Yes, that would be it. Odin would send Thor away for a little special time with his youngest son before the coronation… And calling the meeting at the Observatory could also be explained - some lecture about how an advisor had to be aware of all worlds and look outwards as much as inwards. That would be it.

Loki realised they were far closer to the Observatory than he had thought, than he wanted them to be. He had not even consciously registered mounting the grey horse, but it was carrying him swiftly. He knew faint tremors ran through his arms, but the riding made them imperceptible to anyone but himself. His face too was blank, with no hint of his inner turmoil reflected in the smooth features - that at least he was practiced in.

They walked the last section of the Bifrost, not wishing to be rude and ride up right to where the Allfather waited. Observatory. Loki looked down at the shimmering colours of the rainbow below, trying to avert his gaze from the cosmos all around. Ever since he was young, the edge of the bridge had made him irrationally nervous, something Thor had never tired of teasing him for. Still, it took effort not to cling to the centre of the bridge, to Thor, walking with as much confidence and purpose as ever. And why would Thor be nervous? He, after all, had not done anything wrong.

The turret rose above the golden dome as Loki and Thor approached. Inside the dome, they could see their father flanked by a guard and Heimdall, the bright eyed gatekeeper watching their approach solemnly.

Upon entering, the two princes bowed before the Allfather. Looking up, Loki could not detect even a trace of warmth in the old man’s eyes.

“Father,” said Loki, “you asked to see me.”

Was it just him, or was there a twitch when he called the king his father? But Odin did not look at him, instead his gaze rested on Thor. “Leave us, son.”

“If there is trouble, I wish to know about it,” said Thor, stubborn as ever.

Odin looked at his first-born for a moment and Thor seemed to shrink before the Allfather’s gaze. Loki thought the king would order him out, maybe even lose his temper, but instead he inclined his head in acceptance. “Perhaps it is right that you should be here for this.” And then his attention turned to Loki and in an instant all doubt was swept away as Loki felt the icy anger of the king. “Loki. Heimdall tells me you have been busy.”

Loki resisted the urge to glance at the gatekeeper, instead focusing his attention on his father, his face still without emotion. “Father?” he said, allowing his voice to rise slightly in question.

“Do not play the fool with me, boy.”

Loki remained silent, his mind racing and desperately churning in an attempt to find a way out, an escape. But for once, he had nothing.

“What do you mean, Father?” asked Thor, looking in confusion between the two.

“Quiet, Thor,” said the Allfather without even glancing in his direction, his eyes remaining fixated on Loki. “Is it true,” he continued with a quiver in his voice, “that you intended to use your magic to let frost giants into Asgard?”

“Father…”

“And is it true,” said Odin, his voice growing louder, “that you concealed yourself and the enemies of Asgard from Heimdall’s gaze?”

“This is madness!” said Thor. Loki could not look at him.

“And is it true,” said Odin, looking angrier than his sons had ever seen him, “that you intended to allow them access to my vault?”

There was a slight pause in the Allfather’s questioning and with it a ringing silence in the Observatory. Loki did not know what his father expected of him, he eagerly seized upon the chance.

“If I may,” he said, having finally gathered his wits, “you speak of ‘intention’ as if you do not believe I have yet committed the crimes of which I have been accused. Does the gatekeeper have any proof of his allegations?” He looked at Heimdall for the first time, who in turn regarded him with those unnerving orange eyes, filled with something approaching sorrow.

“You dare?” said Odin, much quieter than before.

“I dare to defend myself,” said Loki with confidence he did not feel. “How easily do you consider your son capable of such treasonous acts, when by all accounts even Heimdall cannot point to any crimes I have actually committed!”

“The magic has already been prepared,” said Heimdall, grave as ever. “A simple examination from one of Asgard’s magic-wielders confirmed as much. Not many in the Nine Realms would be capable of such a feat.”

Under different circumstances, Loki might have appreciated the praise. “But I am hardly the only one.”

“No one fools me. And in the end, even your illusions were undone by the powers bestowed upon me.”

Loki frowned. He had not made a mistake; he was sure of it. Loki prided himself on his ability to tell when others were less than truthful, and that last sentence did not ring of honesty to him.

“Have you all gone insane?” asked Thor. At his voice, Loki looked to him and wished he had not. With mouth open and eyes wider than ever, Thor looked so wounded, so innocent and so unlike the arrogant warrior Loki had grown used to. Loki wished he could refute the gatekeeper’s words, yet knew that whatever he said, Odin would believe the man who had already sworn his oaths to Asgard. His gaze dropped, finding comfort in the familiar sight of the floor.

“I wish it were not so,” said Odin. “But Loki’s actions speak for themselves. These are not the actions of an Asgardian prince.”

“Am I to be executed?” asked Loki, an unfamiliar feeling settling in him. Resignation.

“It would not do to execute one prince on the day we planned to coronate another.”

So that was the only reason his life was to be spared. “The cells, then?”

“A more fitting punishment has been found. On Asgard, you will always remain a prince. Elsewhere…”

The implication hung heavily in the air and when the guard seized him at the collar, dragging him away from Thor as Odin picked up the sword Gugnir, Loki knew he should be relieved. Then why did he feel like the king had sentenced him to death? Why did he feel… lost?

“Loki Odinson… You have committed treason of the highest order. By conspiring with our enemies you have made Asgard vulnerable and have put the lives of loyal subjects in danger. Your actions could have caused war to ravage the Realms, costing many innocent lives.”

Odin plunged Gugnir into the Observatory’s control panel, causing the turret to turn and the magic of the Bifrost to surge, no longer to be contained but instead to be released - and when it did so, forming a portal behind Loki. The king once again turned to his younger son, his face twisted in fury and bitterness usually so much better hidden.

“You are unworthy of this Realm,” continued Odin, advancing on his now shaking son, “unworthy of your title” - with a harsh motion, the green cloak was ripped away, “unworthy of the loved ones you’ve betrayed. I hereby take from you that title and your right to its privileges.”

“In the name of my father,” he said as the right arm of Loki’s armour disintegrated, “and of his father before” - the rest of the armour followed suit, as well as his green cloak - “I cast you out!”

Odin splayed his fingers and jabbed them at Loki with surprising vigour and in an instant, Loki was flung back. The open Bifrost swallowed him and remained open for only a moment longer before disappearing along with any trace of the fallen prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will introduce Jane and co. to proceedings and Heimdall and Frigga have a little chat.


	3. 2.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an odd one because a big chunk of it leans pretty heavily on canon but it also felt weird leaving it out. Also, after this fairly short double-parter these things are getting longer and longer (and frankly more interesting) so that's cool.(..?)  
> On the positive side, I think settling for a fairly regular twice-a-week (Sun & Wed) schedule is probably safe, since I do have well over half of the thing drafted by now but it does still need.... quite a bit of editing.  
> Thank you for all the kind comments! Honestly I love validation so do keep 'em coming even if I can be kind of slow/lethargic at actually replying.

The roof panels of the SUV fold open and a young woman popped her head through the roof, adjusting her magnetomer before looking down at the driver.

“Hurry!”

The car started and as it lurched forward, there was a muffled curse from below. The woman lowered herself down, looking guilty. “Sorry.”

A balding man rubbed his head. “That’ll bruise. Can’t we at least drop off my stuff before we go on a road trip?”

“Can’t,” said the woman before raising herself again. “The readings are too strong.”

“What readings, exactly?” asked the older man, following his companion’s lead and standing up awkwardly.

“These weird astronomical anomalies. It’s always a little different, like this one time there’s, I don’t know, melted stars, pooling in a corner of the sky. But last week it was a rolling rainbow ribbon-“

“Racing ‘-round Orion’?’”, interrupted the man in a lightly teasing tone. “I always said you should’ve been a poet.”

The woman frowned. “Well, the anomalies are always precipitated by geomagnetic storms,” she said,handing a complicated chart to her companion. “They’ve all been highly predictable so you should see it in a moment… But it’s been getting, I don’t know, weirder or more intense or something. Sorry for dragging you out here tonight.”

“That’s all right, Jane,” said the man gently as he examined the chart.

“Hey, Darcy, can you hand me my gloves?”

The driver handed Jane an old pair of gloves through the window. “Should’ve brought some alcohol for this.”

“You’re driving.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to down tequila or whatever. Just maybe, I don’t know, wine or some fancy champagne or something. If you see something.”

“We will,” said Jane. She looked at the man after pulling on the gloves. “What d’you think, Erik?”

“I’m interested. Which is why I’m here.” He gestured at the gloves. “I recognise those. Think how proud he’d be to see you now.”

Jane gave her companion a sad smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“The benefit of the doubt.”

Darcy was humming from below as the two stared out at the sky. “Hey, can I turn on the radio?”

“And listen to what?”

There was a loud sigh, but Jane and Erik continued looking out expectantly. It wasn’t long before Jane started getting worried.

“It’s never taken this long before.” She lowered herself again and rifled through her notebook of complex notes and calculations, taking another long look at the chart she had handed Erik. “There’s always a storm. And it’s always been predictable. To the minute - seventeen times. I don’t get it.”

Erik watched his companion with sympathy, but Darcy was focused on something in the distance. Adjusting it, she got a closer look at odd clouds… Were they glowing?

“Jane?”

The scientist shushed Darcy, still deeply engrossed in her notes. “Maybe something’s changed? Maybe that’s why it’s gotten weirder - a new variable… Or maybe something’s wrong with the equipment? Wouldn’t be surprising, this is all junk…”

At that moment, the lights and equipment in the SUV began to flicker and the computers emitted a static sound.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with your equipment,” said Darcy, still watching the clouds. Jane looked up as her equipment began to shake. “Eh… Jane?”

“What?”

“You’ll want to see this,” said Darcy, pointing out of the window.

The two scientists looked out at the desert, straight at the massive clouds of intense rainbow-coloured light churning in the sky.

“Holy. Shatner.”

“That’s your ‘subtle’ aurora?” asked Erik disbelievingly.

“No… Yes, yes! Let’s go!” Jane raised herself that half her body was above the roof, taking video of the absurd, inexplicable storm. When the SUV hit a bump, she nearly flew out until Erik grabbed her and pulled her back in. Her face was plastered with the widest grin possible as she looked at the other scientist, thrilled beyond measure. “This is amazing!” A thought struck her. “Wait, you’re seeing this too, right? I’m not crazy?”

“Debatable. Put your seat belt on!” Erik replied just before the SUV lurched, the winds howling before the car. And then, in front of them, a huge tornado filled with the bright light of the rainbow, roaring with an ear-shattering noise.As Erik stared, Jane clambered into the front seat beside Darcy.

“You have to get us closer so I can take my readings.”

“Eh… what?” Darcy paled at the words. “You can’t be serious. Oh god, you are serious.”

“You want those college credits?”

Darcy’s eyes left the storm for a moment to give her boss a disgusted look, but Jane did not notice. Reluctantly, she kept driving towards the storm as Jane taped it from outside the window, the storm buffeting the car ever more strongly until a huge explosion emanated from its centre, rocking the car.

“Yup. Nope,” muttered Darcy and wrenched the steering wheel to one side, turning the car with another terrifying lurch. “Screw the credits, I’ll intern at Burger King.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not dying for college credits!”

Jane grabbed the wheel and jerked it the other way. They struggled for control before the headlights fell on a man directly in their path, stumbling around, evidently disoriented. Darcy slammed on the brakes as Jane kept jerking at the wheel but it was too late and the car impacted the man with a heavy thud. The man flew, the car skidded to a stop and the three humans exchanged terrified looks.

Jane and Darcy left the car, Jane almost tripping over her own feet in the process.

“I think that was legally your fault,” Darcy shouted as she looked down at where the man lay, on ground that was oddly charred and blackened.

“First aid kit. Now,” said Jane and Darcy complied. The scientist bent over the man. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” she muttered. And then - “Where did you come from?”

The light of Darcy’s flashlight illuminated the man and Jane inhaled sharply. He was tall, black hair sticking to a thin face with sharp cheekbones. Handsome, but…. unsettling. Too warmly dressed even for the night, in a thick dark jumper and black trousers. He did not look injured, but was still unconscious.

“Does he need CPR?” asked Darcy from behind her. “Because I would totally -“

But before she could finish, the man jerked awake. Jane jumped back in shock, almost throwing over Erik behind her. His body started convulsing, like he was in a fit. But just as abruptly as he awoke, he stopped moving and lay there, eyes staring blankly at the sky.

A pause.

Darcy stepped next to Jane. “Is he -“

But once again, the man would not let Darcy finish her sentence. In a single, rapid movement, he stood up.

“Well, he looks all right,” said Jane, clearly relieved. She looked up to see the storm evaporate. “Damn…” Turning to Erik, she said, “I think we should get soil samples.”

Erik blinked, having been transfixed on the man who was now pacing in a small circle. “Eh… Jane…” Then, the ground caught his attention. He pointed at the mysterious yet clearly discernible pattern etched into the sand. Jane looked at the ground and then at Erik in excitement, before rushing to the car to get a camera.

“We have to document this! Before it goes!”

Jane could not contain her fascination as she rushed to take photos, almost dropping the bundled of scientific equipment she carried in the other arm. It was almost as if she had forgotten the strange man, who was now staring at the sky, completely silent.

“Jane,” said Erik again. “We need to get him to a hospital.”

“Look at him, he’s fine,” said Jane distractedly. The man looked down at her words, regarding them through narrowed eyes.

“You,” he said and just the word made Jane look up, a chill running down her spine. “What world is this?”

The three humans regarded him with confusion, startled by his odd accent - British? - and the unmissable edge to his voice. A dangerous edge.

“What - eh - world?” asked Erik, before shivering as the man’s gaze turned on him.

“Yes.”

Before Erik could answer, the man stumbled and fell to his knees, shaking as the three looked at him in alarm.

“He needs a hospital,” said Erik, crouching next to the man despite how unnerved he was. “It’ll be all right. We’ll get you the care you need.”

“You take him,” said Jane. “I’ll stay here.”

“I am not leaving you alone in the middle of a desert!”

“I’m considering it,” muttered Darcy, still staring at the man.

The stranger managed to raise himself to a half-kneeling posture and regarded his trembling hands with disgust. “Why am I so weak? Where is my magic?”

Erik and Jane exchanged a look.

“Definitely drunk,” said Darcy, backing up slowly to the SUV.

All of them almost had a heart attack when the man threw his head back and started shouting at the sky. “Is this how you treat your son? Believing some old gatekeeper before me! You really think Heimdall could have seen through my magic?” He staggered to his feet and his wild eyes were truly terrifying. “I will not stay here, like some common -“ He moved towards Jane. “You, tell me now where he sent me, tell me -“

It was Darcy’s turn to interrupt the stranger, which she did by tasering the man from behind in rather spectacular a fashion. When she saw the instinctively reproachful look Jane gave her, she looked indignant. “What? He was scaring me!”

“Hospital,” muttered Erik. “Definitely hospital.”

Jane shook her head slowly, still trying to process the turn of events. Quietly, she repeated her earlier words to herself: “Where did he come from?”

* * *

Her device bleeped with a distinctly alarming sound and Maria instantly turned to the nearest monitor, making the cause for the alert appear on the screen with a single flick of the index finger. She stared at the readings and then at the video made by SHIELD’s preliminary response team. Maria might not be a scientist, but years of experience as a top agent of SHIELD as well as having a science nerd of a younger brother had given her just enough scientific knowledge to know that hurricanes seemingly composed of rainbow light tended to signify something was out of the ordinary. Her mouth dropped open in an uncharacteristically cartoonish way.

“Well,” she murmured to herself, “that’s definitely a situation.”

* * *

Heimdall watched the queen approach. He had expected her to come, if not perhaps so soon. It had been a long time since she had visited him last.

Frigga had spoken to Odin already - that much he knew, even though he had averted his gaze from the specifics. A gatekeeper could not afford to be squeamish about watching all those important to Asgard’s fate, and yet mostly his gaze was not to be turned inwards. Mostly, Heimdall did not watch Asgard - a decision he was speedily coming to regret.

Heimdall knew that Frigga would not be as accepting of his story as the king had been, who had in fact believed what his gatekeeper had to say surprisingly quickly, considering the… reputation Heimdall had made for himself over the years. But at least the king knew that his gatekeeper took his oaths to Asgard seriously. Or maybe he was just inclined to believe the worst of his younger son.

Frigga entered the Observatory as Heimdall left his resting state to respond to the queen.

“Heimdall. I wish to speak with you.”

The gatekeeper considered the queen, dressed still in the elegant yellow dress intended for the coronation but her hair, which had been immaculately arranged, now looked a little worse for wear, with no obvious attempt made at using magic to rearrange it. Not that he would be foolish enough to comment on it.

“My queen,” said Heimdall with demure.

“My son has been banished on your word, has he not?”

“Yes.”

“You found out that he had been intending to deceive you and allow Jötnar to enter Asgard?”

“The preparations were already put in place.”

“So I’ve been told.” Frigga contemplated the gatekeeper with narrow eyes. “I do not believe it.”

“My queen, you are as well aware as I that such an act at the hands of Loki is not beyond the realm of possibility…”

“Indeed,” said Frigga in a stony tone. “Yet if my son truly were to use magic to fool you, I hardly think he would be careless enough to let you find out.”

Irritation prickled Heimdall. Why exactly were his abilities in so much doubt that they did not believe a _boy_ would fail to fool him? Of course, he _hadn’t_ discovered Loki’s deception, not technically speaking on his own anyway. Still, it was the principle of the thing. “You may have overestimated your son.”

“Or perhaps my husband overestimates your honesty.”

There it was - the brittle accusation. There was a time when Heimdall would have ignored such a jibe. Now, however, he suspected that the royal family’s bickering would one day lead to Asgard’s downfall. This time, he would not hold his tongue. “You speak to me of honesty in regards to Loki?”

Frigga reeled as if the gatekeeper had struck her, and he knew the implications of his words were clear to her. “You speak dangerous words, gatekeeper.”

Heimdall turned to her, regarding him with his physical eyes. “I only observe. And instead of questioning how I managed to expose your son, your time might be better spent considering why your son would let in frost giants.”

“My son is loyal to Asgard.”

“Does your husband agree?”

The queen looked taken aback by the gatekeeper’s insolence. “Do you have any other opinions you wish to offer?” she asked. Heimdall could not quite figure out what emotion the question was asked in, but he knew he was in perilous territory.

“Does the queen wish to hear my honest beliefs?”

Frigga inclined her head, looking less than enthusiastic.

“I believe not all hope is lost for Loki. But I also believe he needs to understand who he truly is. And where he came from.”

There was a short pause as the queen considered the guardian of the Bifrost. “You know my own opinions on the matter.”

“Yes.”

“But you also know that my husband has forbidden it.”

“I do.”

“Do you wish me to disobey my king’s orders?”

“That is a decision only you can make. I only offer my counsel.”

“And what exactly is your counsel, gatekeeper?”

“The lie Loki was raised with grows more dangerous every day. And if nothing is done, it could lead to ruin.”

“Ruin? A grave warning.”

“But one I would believe to be true. I took no joy in seeing your son get banished. Yet you should never doubt that I act in Asgard’s best interests.”

“Or you merely think you do.”

“Perhaps.”

“Such a singular belief in the rightness of one’s own actions can be dangerous, Heimdall. I would have thought you of all people would know that.”

He bristled internally. “I have told you all I can tell you.”

“Can? Or want to?”

“Both.”

Frigga regarded Heimdall a little longer before turning away from him. “Your answers are hardly satisfactory, but it is clear you will not offer any others. In the mean time, I evidently have much to think about.”

With that, she walked briskly away as the gatekeeper watched her, hoping he was pushing the future slowly and surely away from a future he so feared.

* * *

“Coulson here.”

“How do you feel about getting away from Stark?”

“Where do you need me?”

“New Mexico.”

“Ah. I heard about that. When should I head down?”

“Immediately. We’ve sent all the files already. I think it’s fair to say we’re dealing with something… unusual.”

Coulson laughed. “I’ve been keeping a billionaire playboy on house arrest. Unusual is part of the job description.”

“This is different. We’re talking rainbow tornadoes here.”

“Rainbow tornadoes?”

“That’s the headline. The files have all the actual science in them. Or, what our people are trying to call science. They’re not too clear on what’s going on either.”

“On my way. I assume there’s a replacement for Stark duty?”

“Agent Romanoff.”

“I’m honoured that she’s _my_ replacement.”

“You’re good with this stuff, Coulson. Which is why we’re sending you down there. I’m expecting frequent updates.”

“I won’t disappoint,” said the agent and hung up.


	4. 2.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New part! It's mostly short stuff that sets up the coming drama™. There's a lot of Thor in the two parts after this and that really gets the plot rolling.
> 
> So the chapter count has changed - one of the double-parts coming later ended up being so much longer than I had planned that I ended up sub-dividing them. Go me, I guess.
> 
> Hope you enjoy, as ever.

“He did _what_?”

“I cannot explain it. Some mistake must have been made.”

Sif looked to the Warriors Three, all wearing expressions that mixed shock and grim regret. “Thor, do you really think Heimdall could make a mistake? One so grievous?”

“Loki would not do this. He would never…” Thor brought his hand crashing down and the feeble wooden table crumbled beneath his might. “I refuse to accept this!”

There was silence as Thor’s friends watched him, unwilling to say what they were all thinking. Thor tried to suppress the edge of fury he suddenly felt towards them. How could they all be so eager to accept this _lie_?

“He wouldn’t do this,” said Thor softly.

“Thor…” said Fandral, brushing his light hair out away from his eyes. “Heimdall sees everything.”

“Not this. It is a trick. Someone is trying to harm my brother, and by Mjølnir’s might when I find out who!” The anger surged in him again, but just as suddenly it faded, leaving behind only a sick churning in his gut. “We need to do something.” But what? This was the point at which Thor would usually turn to his brother. Loki, who always had the answers. Loki, with his calculating, brilliant mind. Loki, with his easy smile that always promised mischief. Loki, who had looked at their father with such fear, but also in those last moments… resignation? But Loki was not one to give up, that much he knew. Surely he was figuring out something right now…

“The frost giants!” he exclaimed, causing the other to jump slightly. “They were trying to get into the Vault!”

Another look passed between the others. “With Loki’s help, or so Heimdall says,” Fandral noted.

“They wanted to attack and they almost succeeded. They must be trying to frame Loki!” His face settled into its typical determination. “We should go to Jotunheim and discover the truth.”

“What madness is this?” said Volstagg.

“The right kind of madness.”

“Thor. No.” Sif’s words were gentle, nevertheless firm. She looked at Thor with compassion and yet he could not help but be even angrier.

“You want me to go on my own?”

“You won’t go. Asgard has already lost one prince today. It cannot afford to lose another.”

“If you truly wanted to help Loki -“

“That’s the problem,” said Sif before taking a deep breath. “Thor, I know you don’t want to accept this, but has Heimdall ever been known to be wrong before?”

“You do not trust Loki?”

“He’s not an easily-trusted man,” muttered Volstagg.

“He may be your brother but he has always been jealous of you,” said Sif. “You know that as well as I.”

“My brother loves me.”

“And yet he is not above tricks, you know that.”

“This was not a trick,” said the usually quiet Hogun. “It was the act of a traitor.”

“Are you accusing my brother?”

“Calm yourself, Thor,” said Sif.

“You must admit that Loki would enjoy disrupting your coronation,” said Fandral. “Maybe his intentions were not treasonous, merely… mischievous.”

“There are not many who possess a mastery of magic necessary to bring Jötunnar into Asgard,” said Hogun.

“If my brother truly wished to conceal frost giants and sneak them in,” said Thor, “Heimdall would not have been able to discover it.”

_A few miles away in the Asgardian Observatory, a certain gatekeeper could not help but roll his golden eyes._

“You have to accept the possibility that Loki is lost to us,” said Sif, still in that gentle tone.

Thor looked at her, trying to repress the sorrow he so keenly felt. “Never,” he said and despite himself, his voice cracked.

* * *

It was quieter in the hallway, away from the endless bustle of the agents’ activity, and Maria put the phone to her ear again. “Sorry about that. So the visa…”

“They’re not accepting it. I thought you said one of your agents had handled it.”

“I thought he had. Give me a moment, I’ll tell him to sort it out. I’m sure there won’t be any problems.”

“Yeah? Well it’s already a problem. Jeez, you’d think the system would at least work smoothly for US government agents.”

“Is that tone really necessary? It’s a mistake. I’m getting someone on it. Which means I’m using government resources for _your_ friend.”

When Aaron spoke again, his voice had less of an edge. “Sorry. It’s just really irritating.”

“I know.”

“I knew it was a possibility. Which makes it even more annoying.”

“I get that.”

The glass doors next to her opened and Agent Topolski looked out into the hallway at Maria. “Commander Hill, you’d better come and see this.”

Maria frowned. “What is it?”

Topolski glanced at the phone but replied anyway. “Stark.”

The one word was enough to cause a wave of fatigue to roll over Maria. “One moment, agent,” she said and put the ear back to her phone. “Aaron…”

“Yeah, yeah, business calls and all -“ He broke off suddenly. “Oh. Damn.”

“What?”

“Eh… You might want to check CNN.”

Maria’s frown deepened as she looked again at Topolski, watching her with a grimace. He was holding the door open and she could hear the chatter from inside, way louder than just a moment ago. Still connected to her brother, she walked through the door and looked at one of the monitors in the centre of the operational office. She took one look at it and groaned. “Aaron, I’m gonna have to hang up.”

“I think you probably should.”

“Agent Rosenberg will get the thing sorted,” said Maria, in truth paying little attention to the thought. She disconnected the call as she stared at the screen and muttered a string of obscenities under her breath. “What am I watching?” she asked one of the agents who was staring intently at a smaller monitor.

“Hammer’s drones, ma’am. I think he’s lost control of them.”

“You think?” said the commander, watching the grey specks chasing after the red speck. “Let me guess. Stark interrupted the demonstration and things went to hell.”

“Pretty much,” said Topolski.

“I was gone for two minutes…”

“At least he’s drawn them away from civilians,” said the sitting agent. “Or, I think… It’s kind of hard to figure out what’s going on.”

“What happened? Audition for the new Transformers film gone wrong?”

“Not quite,” said Topolski. “Hammer was doing his demonstration, then Stark landed and talked to Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes and next moment he and all the drones were suddenly shooting at him. It’s complete chaos.”

“Impressive. Stark has finally managed to drive even machines to insanity.” Maria inhaled through her teeth. “Has Romanoff been in contact?”

“Yeah, there’s a response team in New York… Fury’s there too, I think.”

“Well, keep monitoring the situation. If Fury or Romanoff calls, let me know.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

When Loki awoke the next time, it was in a place he did not recognise. Everything was strange, from the odd flimsy garment he was now dressed in to the bright light shining on him to the woman standing over him, holding a syringe.

“You’re awake!” she said. “Just taking a little blood.”

Not likely.

The glass of the syringe vibrated and the woman dropped it in surprise, shattering on the stone floor. Loki grimaced - he had meant for it to explode - disconcerted by how weak his magic still was, yet still felt a glimmer of pleasure at her startled reaction.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

She was speaking in one of the Midgardian languages, which at least told him where he had been sent. Loki raised himself while the woman was turned away, presumably fetching another syringe, and when she turned back she hastened to his side.

“Please, lie down! We need to check whether you’re all right.”

“I’m fine. Whatever Midgardian device I was attacked with would hardly keep me down for long.”

The woman frowned. “Mid… Excuse me?”

He did not have the patience to deal with this. “Thank you for your concern.” Loki swung his feet off the surface on which they had placed him and stood up.

“Hey, you can’t just leave!”

“Watch me.”

“I need some help,” the woman shouted and more Midgardians swarmed into the room. They would try to restrain him, Loki realised. Emphasis on _try_.

The light source in the room was encased by glass, which Loki made explode with a simple gesture. He used the moment’s distraction to create an illusion of himself while changing his own appearance to look like Sif dressed in the odd white clothes the mortals were wearing. While the illusion backed away from the mortals into a corner, the warrior’s guise slipped out of the room. Loki was half-way down the corridor when he heard the muffled cries of shock and confusion, signalling that his trickery had been discovered. A little smile played across his face.

Now he was in some other room where many mortals in a greater variety of clothes were sitting around - some kind of waiting room? - and he saw the big doors that led outside. As he left, a flicker of green passed over his body and he could once more see his own reflection in the glass, now dressed in an outfit he had taken a liking to matching one of the sitting mortals.

Loki started walking, thinking it might be wise to get a little distance between himself and the mortals who had tried to subdue him. Taking “a little blood”… Was this some strange Midgardian medicine? He cast a glance at the building beside him, squat and ugly. A hospital?

Never mind. Never mind that, never mind all of them.

He was alone.

The familiar rage burnt in him again. How could he have been banished? He, who had been promised a throne? But of course the rejection made sense;he deserved it for betraying Asgard. The thought made him only angrier yet he clamped down on it. This torrent of emotions could not control him. Not when he had no Thor, no mother to calm him down.

“Hey, you!”

Loki would have run into the woman if she had not said anything. As it was, he barely stopped in time.

“Excuse me,” he said reflexively, still preoccupied by his own thoughts.

“Don’t worry. I kind of hit you with my car so all things considered…”

He looked at the woman more closely and recognised her. She was the one from before, from when he had been… From when he had arrived. What did she want now? He said nothing.

“Nice suit,” she said with an awkward grin. “They sure released you quickly.”

“Released me?”

“From the hospital. Eh… I’m sorry about the whole hitting you with my car thing. And Darcy’s sorry for tasering you.”

“She totally doesn’t speak for me,” said the other woman, popping up next to her companion with her bouncy black hair hidden by a cap and big pieces of glass in some kind of dark frame in front of her eyes. “But I am sorry. Even though I only did that because you were like super freaky. Which you were.”

“I apologise.”

“Oh,” said the dark-haired woman. Darcy? “That’s… good. You can be polite. Sobered up?”

“Darcy!” said the other woman, voice full of reproach. “I’m sorry about her. Seriously. And I’m happy you’re all right.”

“Thank you for your concern,” said Loki, torn between eagerness to get away and unwillingness to draw any more attention to himself.

“Right. Look, I don’t really want to do this but I was wondering whether I could talk to you about what happened. Like how the hell you ended up in the centre of a freak geomagnetic storm without a car or anything. What were you doing there?”

Loki considered her coldly and she shrunk a little in response. “I’ll pass.”

“Oh. Well, maybe I deserve that, for running you over and all.” She hesitated before digging in her trouser pockets and pulling out a small, crumpled piece of paper. “Here,” she said, pushing the paper assertively at Loki, “you can contact me here. If you want to.”

“You can contact me through that too,” said Darcy. “Just thought I’d bring it up.”

“Darcy!”

“Hey, he should know.”

Loki stared at the paper for a moment, then accepted it. The Midgardian letters quickly became comprehensible - _Doctor Jane Foster_. And a string of meaningless numbers. Coordinates, perhaps? “Thank you. Doctor Foster.”

“Just Jane’s fine. Really,” said the woman - Jane - as a little colour rose to her cheeks. “Just call if you change your mind. Especially if you’re also a scientist. Or if you’re not, too. I… I really want to figure out what happened. That’s all.”

Her words awoke considerable curiosity in Loki, and he realised that the anger had faded somewhat during their conversation. “I’ll remember that.”

“Right.” Jane looked at him as if she wanted to say something else, then shook her head. “I don’t suppose you could at least tell me your name? It was kind of awkward at the front desk of the hospital, with nothing to say…”

He hesitated, then his features twisted into a thin smile. As if it mattered. “Loki.”

“Loki?” said Jane, sounding even more confused. He nodded. “Eh, okay. Is that… like… European?”

Loki regarded her blankly.

“Never mind. Sorry for bothering you. So, I’ll see you around, maybe?”

He nodded. “Goodbye, Jane. Darcy.” Without further ado, he slipped between the two of them and continued on his way.

“Intense guy, isn’t he?” said Darcy’s voice from behind him.

Jane shushed her companion. “We must have scared him. In the desert.”

“Sure, sure,” said Darcy in a sceptical tone. She snorted. “‘Is that like European’? Smooth.”

“Shut up,” said Jane and the last thing Loki heard of them was Darcy chuckling.

The anger was gone. In its place was… emptiness. The void in him was more all-consuming than it ever had been before. Where it had once just been a throb, now it was a chasm. All his plans, his ideas, everything he had thought himself to be had been swept away. As if it had never been there. No more than a dream. There was no going back. Asgard might as well not exist.

But it did. With a tightening of the throat, he realised that Heimdall was most likely watching him right now. Appraising his movements. Judging his reactions. Without rest and without reprieve. He could never escape Asgard and could never be a part of it again. Unless…

Unless he cloaked himself from Heimdall, as he had done before. So easy would it be, to slip into oblivion. To fall into the emptiness. But to do so was to accept that he was never returning to Asgard.

Where was he going? He didn’t know. What was his goal? He had none left. Who was he? Even that seemed difficult to answer.

It had only been a day. Loki knew how hopeless he could get. But the emptiness always passed. It could still do so.

He would not embrace the darkness yet.

* * *

Heimdall was indeed watching. Not that it helped all too much - the prince’s face was as blank as ever. The few words he had exchanged with the mortal had been polite enough, even affable. The situation in the hospital had been handled fairly elegantly. The prince had barely resorted to violence, but rather seemed to actively be avoiding it. Surely he knew that the gatekeeper was watching him. Was this part of another scheme, a way to get back his home and position? Or was it something else entirely? Loki had shown only flashes of sentiment since being banished. Some anger here, some confusion there. Little concrete. And considering what he had been through… Heimdall was used to knowing what other people were thinking. To look at Loki and see, well, _nothing_ \- it was disconcerting to say the least. How much of it was an act? And what happened when all the emotions could no longer be contained? What happened when Loki snapped?

* * *

Hours later, when Darcy had just returned from her latest coffee run and the sun was already high above the sky, Jane and Erik were still awake, discussing what they had seen.

“So unless Ursa Minor decided to take the day off… those are someone else’s constellations,” finished Jane, looking exhilarated despite her tiredness. Erik looked at the charts, fascination trumping scepticism.

Meanwhile, after setting down the coffee Darcy pulled another frame-grab of the storm footage from the printer and hung it on the wall. Something in the image caught her eye.

“Hey, check it out.”

When Jane and Erik had examined the photo, they exchanged an amazed look.

“Is that…?” said Erik.

“We’ve gotta find that guy,” said Jane and grabbed her coat.

Darcy took another look at the photo, excited despite herself. In the storm funnel cloud was a figure: the blurry but unmistakable shape of a man.


	5. 3.1

Loki had not slept in a long time. Asgardian physiology was better suited to resisting fatigue than its Midgardian equivalent, but there were limits even to his endurance. He had walked all around this pitiful town, small and dreary and seemingly in the middle of nowhere. If he was going to be banished, did it have to be in a desert? Getting anywhere from here was going to be arduous.

As he walked, he watched the mortals and he went about updating his knowledge of Midgard to the current era. So much of it was bizarre to him - from the odd metal boxes they moved in to the somewhat skimpy clothes to the little devices they put to their ears and talked into. Many of them stared at the stranger who walked with much purpose but without direction. They realised - maybe through instinct - that there was something unusual about him, but none tried to stop or talk to him.

He leaned against the side of a building, looking at the empty blue sky. It would be difficult to adapt to his new surroundings, but surely the first step was to get to a bigger settlement. One option was to simply walk away from this town, but the idea of blindly stumbling around Midgard and possibly even expiring in the desert did not much appeal to him. Another was to try to commandeer one of the metal boxes and use it to get away, but once again his lack of knowledge hindered him. That left acquiring the help of mortals, a step he would have dismissed but a short day ago as insanity. Whether that involved sneaking into one of the metal boxes as it left town, hoping its driver would take him to a bigger not smaller settlement, or whether it meant he would have to ask one of the mortals for advice, he suspected the sooner he acted, the better. That suited him well. He got bored easily. It was very nearly exciting: this business of figuring out a new world. So different from the endless tedium of life on Asgard. His mind enjoyed challenges and these calculations and puzzles were keeping him occupied. Instead of the emptiness, he felt… alive.

Loki closed his eyes and breathed in the dusty air, letting ideas and schemes develop in his mind and almost forgetting the reality of his situation. It was not to last. When he opened them again, he saw before him his mother.

He said nothing, staying slumped against the wall, wondering whether his mind was playing tricks on him again. Frigga looked at her son with an expression that mixed sadness and compassion, and it took considerable restraint to not run towards her and embrace her tightly like a little boy. The little boy he had once been.

“My son,” said Frigga.

He waited.

“How is Midgard treating you?”

A thin smile. “Why does it concern you? I am no longer Asgard’s prince.”

“But you are still my son.”

“Your banished son,” said Loki evenly.

“You know full well that it was your actions that led to your banishment.”

“So you believe Heimdall’s lies?”

Frigga hesitated. “I know he speaks the truth as to your intents.”

The implied caveat caught Loki’s attention but he did not address it. “If you believe you know the truth, why are you here?”

“I needed to see you. To see what condition you were in.”

“So now that you have seen me, I assume you will depart?”

Frigga’s expression was pained as she shook her head. “Why so hostile? Do you truly think all on Asgard have forgotten you?”

“I know you have turned away from me. And I’m sure you will forget me soon enough.”

“You think so little of our bond?”

Loki regarded her with narrowed eyes, not intending to answer the question. “Does Odin know you are here?”

“Your father does not need to know everything.”

This _was_ surprising to Loki. It wasn’t as if his mother hadn’t hidden things from his father before, but less and less recently. And never anything this serious. “I’m honoured.”

Frigga frowned at the ironic tone. “Loki, your father loves you dearly. But there are decisions he made, decisions I am doubting more and more.”

What was this? What did she mean? Was it a trick? Loki made a small gesture, inviting her to continue, while watching his mother’s movements closely. She seemed far more uncertain than usual, maybe even a little nervous. Not as if she were visiting a disgraced son, almost as if she were disgraced herself…

“There are truths that have been kept from you, from Thor too. Things that your father decided to conceal for your sake, but which may have done more harm than good.”

“Then why tell me now?”

“Because I want to believe there is still hope for you.”

Loki’s expression soured. “If you couldn’t bring to tell me in the last few centuries, I cannot see why you should do so now that I am banished. How can you be so sure I even want to return to Asgard?”

“Loki!”

“Be honest, _Mother_ ,” he said, almost spitting the word out, “will your truths bring me any happiness?”

Frigga hesitated. “Not immediately.”

“Well, if you’re so keen to cause me further pain, go ahead,” he said and made another small hand gesture before folding his arms and leaning back more snugly against the wall with as much insolence as he could muster.

Frigga regarded her son for a moment, clearly trying to come to a decision. She sighed. “No, you are right. These are not truths you should learn while on Midgard. I will tell you when you are reunited with our family. When you are home.”

Loki gave his mother an incredulous look. “You come here, ask me how I’m feeling, tell me my parents have been keeping secrets from me for centuries and then decide not to reveal them to me? Well, this _has_ been an enjoyable visit. Thanks for stopping by.”

“Loki…”

“Spare me, Mother. My time could be better spent counting the grains of sand. I only have a _desert_ to get through.”

He straightened and started walking away from Frigga. After a few steps, he could not help but look back at his mother. She had disappeared.

* * *

Heimdall’s mind never existed on just one level. A gatekeeper might not be able to turn his eyes on all that happened simultaneously, but with nine realms to watch it would hardly suffice to turn his eyes to just one matter at a time. However much his mind was strengthened with magic, it could not function normally when his sight was fully engaged. Thus, both his body and his mind entered a trance-like state he could uphold for months - even years, if need be - until he had use of their more complex functions. Everything was slower in this state, yet he still thought. And with so many years slowly drifting by, he had been given much time for introspection.

It had been long since he had paid much time to Asgard’s affairs, preferring to turn his gaze to possible enemies and threats. What foolishness that might turn out to be if Asgard’s fall came through its own.

He had neglected his duties. And more than that - he had neglected to do what was right.

Heimdall was not arrogant to think he bore the full responsibility for the young prince’s downfall. And yet neither would he deny how actions and choices centuries ago were still reverberating in the currents of time. It had been a long time since the young prince had been in any way close to the gatekeeper. Maybe the prince was young enough to have forgotten. The young throw memories away easily, always clambering after new ones.

Just like Heimdall had. And all that in desperate pursuit for something he should never have sought.

It did not matter. He had to decide how to proceed: he, who was to be passive in the growth of time but now was suddenly a figure of action. Gatekeepers were not to have minds of their own and yet he did, flitting from thought to thought that belied order in favour of chaos. Still as stone in composure, inside he was becoming a flighty creature - or maybe returning to something that had been lost long ago.

What would young Heimdall, that faithless and rash idiot, have done? He remembered how close he had been to telling Loki the truth. He remembered Odin’s fury. He remembered venting his frustrations to the centre of his life.

 _A lie can be merciful_.

And a simple choice carried many consequences.

No lie could be hidden forever and there would never be a right time. It was as if every moment he waited, they were careening towards a worse future.

 _I never wanted to be a watcher_ , he thought. There was something oddly soothing to the bitterness.

He would confront Frigga one last time. Make his demands. Act accordingly if she did not concede.

* * *

“Father!”

Thor strode forwards, paying little attention to assembled courtiers and servants as he approached the king. He had spent many solitary hours preparing for this conversation, carefully mulling over the words he used and expression he should adopt. Yet now, a rare shiver of nerves passed through him.

“I wish to speak to you,” he said, studiously ignoring the exasperation his father radiated. The other people in the room promptly dispersed until it was just him and Odin, sitting on the golden throne.

“What is it, son?”

“I ask of you that you lift my brother’s banishment.”

The king emitted a small huff but his expression grew steadily more unreadable. “You are young and foolish, and understand little of what you speak. Even though Loki committed treason, you wish to see his return?”

“Yes.”

Odin appraised him with that one gleaming eye, then gestured with the hand not clasping his spear. “Proceed.”

“My brother may be have acted in an ill-conceived manner,” said Thor, trying not to stumble over the words, “yet he doesn’t deserve to be kept from his home. His decisions were made with the best intentions at heart - this I believe without a doubt.”

“You believe it is in Asgard’s best interest to keep you off the throne?”

Thor hesitated: it was hard for him to think of his brother’s actions in that light. Not just a prank, but one specifically aimed at keeping Thor from the throne. A sign, clearly, that his brother did not consider him worthy of the honour. The notion stung more than a little, yet he pressed on. “What I believe matters little; rather it is what _Loki_ believes that should prove conclusive. He has oft expressed doubts as to my ability to decide wisely, has he not? Now I wish to provide counsel in a way he believed me incapable of.”

Odin said nothing, forcing Thor to search for more words yet.

“With considerable deference, I recommend a reversal of this decision as I think it was made with undue haste.”

That should do it. Yet the silence between them stretched too long and hung too heavily.

Finally, Odin spoke. “Words that could have spoken by the silver-tongue himself. A true king should judge wisely yet act firmly. But what of a son who questions his father at every turn?”

Dangerous territory, clearly. But this particular response, Thor had anticipated and his answer was prepared well. “If your words remind me of my brother, it is only because his advice has brought me this far. Advice which I have paid little heed to far too often. Let me talk to him. Let me reconcile with him. Whatever caused him to act the way he has, I believe he is not lost to Asgard. Merely in need of my help as I was so often in need of his. I refuse to desert him now.”

Yet the words did little to convince the king, whose exasperation was shifting to something uglier. No longer restrained in speech, he said, “Your loyalty is admirable yet your insolence is less so. Not yet has Asgard’s first-born prince provided any reason for why one who would let our fiercest enemies seek out our dearest treasures should be so easily forgiven.”

“Not forgiven, just returned to our world.”

“To our world’s cells, then?”

“No - never that! But surely you cannot intend his banishment to last forever?”

“Whatever my rash son might surmise, my decision was not made lightly. It shall not be undone.”

“Then you would tear our family apart thus?” asked Thor, the barely suppressed anger mounting ever faster. He was careening off-script and yet he cared less and less. “This sounds like a choice made out of fear, not wisdom!”

“Watch your tongue, boy!” said Odin and rose to his feet. He towered over his son the way Thor imagined he had once towered over his enemies. Powerful. Noble. Immovable. Yet was there now a hint of fear about him? His response made Thor more stubborn still.

“Loki’s prank may have been misjudged yet your obstinacy strikes me as more harmful still. Was I not to be made king on that day? You would have crowned me then and refuse my opinions now?”

Odin’s features contorted in ever greater fury as he stepped towards his son. “You tread on ever more dangerous ground.”

“And if I were to stomp on that ground, would the king choose to banish his other son as well?”

“I would rather lose two sons than have one ascend the throne unfit to rule,” said Odin, seeming almost dizzy with fury. Now Thor too took a step forward. The sun hit his eyes directly but he refused to blink.

“You judge me _unfit_? It’s your every breath that grows more gasping - or isn’t that why you planned to hand me the throne?”

“Certainly I’m doubting at the wisdom of that choice, considering your treacherous words,” said Odin. He summoned just a touch more anger and sheer disappointment when he continued, staggering forwards as he did so, “You know not of what you speak, and if you truly think I would trust you with any power after the lack of judgement you -“

Yet as if to mock his own words, it was with those words and one final lurch towards his wayward son that the king fell.

Thor rushed to him but despite increasingly desperate entreaties, Odin was now truly immovable. When finally the guards heeded Thor’s shouts and wails, he stood back, looking dumbfounded upon the sight of his frozen father.

It was an absurd and all-too-sudden ending to their conversation, one that left more questions than answers. He was not dead, Thor knew, but in the Odinsleep. But for a moment, Thor could not help but wonder whether his last words to his father would be his most insulting.

* * *

“It’s great to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” said Sahar and accepted the outstretched hand. “From the way Aaron sells it, I was half-expecting you to live in a Bond-style lair. You know, in a volcano or something.”

“Sadly not,” said Maria, giving her brother a sidelong glance.

“Don’t worry, sis,” said Aaron, leaning against the kitchen counter with a grin Maria had missed. “Haven’t been spilling any secrets.”

Now Maria looked at him reproachfully but Sahar laughed.

“Oh, he’s not said anything important, promise. All I’ve heard is that you’re like the CIA, but somehow even shadier.”

Maria inclined her head, knowing quite well that wasn’t the full extent of Sahar’s dealings with SHIELD. “Happy to hear our reputation is still as good as ever.”

“Your brother’s quite the spokesman.”

“I bet he is,” she said and Aaron’s grin widened. “How was the trip?”

“Once we were actually allowed to fly, not too bad,” said Aaron.

“Real fancy flight too.”

“Barely any kids screamed at me. Disappointing, really.”

Maria looked at Aaron with barely concealed shock.

“Just a joke,” said Aaron lightly. “All in the handbook.”

Sahar, who had been watching both of them intently, turned to Maria. “I don’t suppose I could have some water, please? I’m a little thirsty after the journey.”

“Of course,” said Maria gratefully and immediately rushed to get a glass from one of the cupboards. From the corner of her eye, she could see her brother look a little irritated.

“All I’m saying is,” he said, “if they ever do make that remake of the Toxic Avenger, I’ve got it in the bag.”

Sahar made a sceptical sound as she accepted the glass of water with a smile, evidently trying to put their host at ease. “That guy was ripped though.”

“Ouch.”

“Gain twenty odd pounds of muscle and maybe I could see it,” she said, squinting at Aaron.

Maria laughed, a little more high-pitched than usual but entirely genuine.

“Aaron was right - you people really do go overboard with the air conditioning,” said Sahar, folding her arms and shivering a little.

“It’s basically a national obsession… I can turn it down a bit if you want to,” said Maria, to which Sahar nodded gratefully. “Did you get through security on the other end all right?” asked the agent while fiddling with the air conditioning, happy for the opportunity to change the subject.

“Yeah, pretty easily actually. I was expecting way worse.” She winced. “That came out a little harsh.”

Maria smiled and glanced at her brother, who had been looking sullen but snorted at that. “If you’re hungry, I was just preparing dinner?” asked Maria.

“You’re cooking?”

“Yeah,” said Maria, a little insulted by the scepticism in her brother’s voice. “That’s a thing I do now.”

As she busied herself with kitchen utensils, she once again addressed Sahar. “Aaron tells me you’re a history student?” Maria flinched at her own words, realising how much she sounded like their mother.

“She’s just graduated,” Aaron jumped in.

“Yeah, but I’m starting my masters next year.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” said Maria, knowing how lame it sounded. “And do you have any siblings, Sahar?”

“Too many.”

After a few more minutes of polite small talk, Aaron interrupted them. “Stop interrogating her,” he said, pulling up a chair at the kitchen counter. “Or at least let us get in a little interrogation ourselves. What are you working on?”

Maria glanced at Sahar before she could stop herself.

“Oh, I can listen to music while you talk. I invested a lot in good headphones precisely so my friends can talk with their siblings about secret government business without me hearing.”

“Also so the rest of us aren’t subjected to the noise you call music.”

Sahar took out her headphones with a theatrical motion and after lowering them over her head, let go so they hit her ears with a slight plop. “Speak up grandpa, I can’t hear you.”

Maria looked at her brother, trying to suppress bewilderment. “Eh… I don’t want her to actually put on headphones.”

“She’s just joking. Besides, it’s not like you’ll tell me anything either.”

Sahar took the headphones off again.

“You know full well I can’t.”

There was an awkward silence before Sahar jumped in and started asking Maria questions about what they should do while in DC. The latter answered expansively, once again grateful for the intervention as Aaron watched. The lightness his sister had recently seen in him had receded, as if his return to the US was to be accompanied by a return of that slightly sullen shell she had gotten used to.

Or maybe - Maria’s thought accompanied by emotions that mixed sickness and sadness - it was her presence that soured her brother’s mood. These days, she couldn’t seem to do anything right.

* * *

Frigga embraced her oldest son tightly as his arms hung limply at their sides, all their usual power as if drained out.

“How is he?” asked Thor, looking at his father lying before them.

“He is -“ Frigga broke off, her worried eyes turning to the old king too. “I know not how long it will last. This time was different. We were unprepared.”

“I said things to him…”

His mother saw the regret and concern in his gaze and smiled, gently taking his hand in both of hers. “He can hear us, even now. If you wish to speak to him.”

It was odd, talking with the expansive bed covered in the distinctive golden threads of magic between them. Thor hesitated, then shook his head. “Mother, my fire may have receded and I wish I had not spoken so hastily. And yet… Father acts as if he has given up all hope already regarding Loki’s return.”

There it was: the aversion of the gaze, the furrowing of the brow. Thor’s teeth were pressed together as he watched Frigga’s speedily shifting face. Something was off.

“Your father loves Loki dearly. Yet things are more complicated than you can imagine.”

“In what way so?”

“Loki committed a treasonous act -“

“- that much I have myself perceived. What else?”

“A prince cannot be easily forgiven for such an act, especially considering the calamity to which it could have led. Believe me, this current state of affairs gladdens me little, but there’s always a purpose to everything your father does.”

Thor’s head turned as he heard hurried footsteps. The Einherjar Guard entered the room and Thor tensed a little, staring suspiciously at them before casting a helpless glance towards his mother.

“With Odin asleep, you must be king. Until he awakens, Asgard is yours.”

The Einherjar knelt before Thor and another entered, holding Gugnir before him. He too knelt, offering the spear to Thor.

“Make your father proud,” said Frigga.

Thor reached out uncertainly, then took the spear, deeply conscious of Mjølnir lying only a few short feet away. This weapon felt far less comfortable in his hand, but he did his best to radiate the confidence that usually came so naturally to him as he dismissed the guards and turned back to Frigga.

“As king, I can lift Loki’s banishment!”

“No!” The word escaped in an instant and was enough to earn Frigga a look of shock from her son. “Thor… my king, I urge you to show caution. As much as I understand and even share your desire… you cannot forgive treason through a passion.”

“Everyone keeps talking to me of a treason when describing a prank.”

Frigga’s expression turned incredulous as she shook her head. “Your determination to protect your brother warms my heart… But, as my husband was confronted with again and again, doing what is right for Asgard is often painful. Can you so casually undo your father’s last act?”

“Don’t say last,” said Thor. His grip around Gungnir was so tight that he almost expected the metal to bend under his fingers, but of course it would not. Hard, unyielding and not so easily bent to his will, this cursed symbol of a position he had long coveted… “I think not as a brother but as a king who needs counsel.” His voice wavered and he gritted his teeth, trying to stop the enormity of the responsibility he suddenly felt from crushing him. This was not how it should have gone. “Mother… I don’t know what to do without him.”

Frigga paused. “What you do as king, I cannot prevent. But if you would accept my counsel… Loki worries me. I spoke to him, briefly” - Thor raised his eyebrows at the revelation - “and he seemed… He might benefit from your company as much as you from his. I still recommend that you do not bring him back, not while your father still rests and Loki’s treason still rests so heavily on your people’s minds. That does not mean you should not talk to him.”

Thor nodded, unhappy but slightly more contended. It was about time he had a little chat with his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may not have time to post tomorrow, so I'm just doing it today. Do leave comments - I really enjoy reading them!


	6. 3.2

“Damn,” muttered Loki as he faced his second unwanted visitor of the day. This one, of course, had to travel via Bifrost and had given Loki plenty of time to disappear - if he had wished to do so. But what was the point? Instead, he had simply left the town a little way behind, not disposed to letting see the mortals watch the family dramatics.

“Loki,” said Thor. His expression stony, he clasped his hammer tightly in a way that made Loki distinctly nervous.

Once more, Asgard could not leave him alone. Just as he was about to find a way to leave this town… But maybe, maybe there was hope. Loki scanned Thor’s face with an intensity, a veritable hunger new to him, searching for any cues. Any sign of forgiveness… Or of rejection.

He waited for the anger. It came. “How could you?” Thor stepped forward and Loki stepped back. “You… How could you be so foolish?”

What an odd choice of words. “Foolish?”

“You went too far.”

So even Thor no longer doubted his guilt. They had shared so many happy memories… And yet Loki struggled to remember even a single one. Something hurt and he thought it might be panic at this deficiency in memory recall, but then he realised his fingers were digging into his skin, as if he were trying to crush his own bones.

“To not let an oaf rule Asgard?” he asked, sneering as best he could.

“To not think your prank wouldn’t have consequences!” Thor took a deep breath. A prank? Was this his brother’s strange way of excusing his actions? How confidently he could dismiss Loki’s intentions - but then confidence, he had always had enough of. Power where Loki had none. “I did not come here to quarrel but to talk to you. And I know that this must be painful to you.”

Loki almost snorted at his brother’s words, suppressing the mingled surprise and exasperation the words provoked but not able to stop a few bitter words to escape from his lips. “Oh my, Thor.What know you of pain? When did you learn of it?”

“When you were taken from me.”

The saccharine words made him more bitter still. He did not want to face his brother now. Thor, more superior than ever. His mind grasped at the first words they came across, forced into a resentful question. “Does our father share your regret?”

Thor averted his eyes in a not-very-Thor way. “Loki… Father has fallen into the Odinsleep.” He looked up to meet his brother eyes almost… nervously? “I am now king.”

“My congratulations.”

Thor’s expression darkened at his brother’s half-smile. “Are you truly incapable of sincerity?”

“Oh, but it is you who is being insincere. You wanted the throne.”

“Not like this.”

“Perhaps it would have been more amusing if my trick had gone undiscovered.”

“How could you say that?” Thor lunged forward but Loki darted back, still faster than the other. “What could I have done to you to warrant letting those monsters into Asgard?”

“As blind as ever -“

“Your blithe words aren’t enough! Dammit, brother. You…” He grabbed at Loki’s arm and the grip was as overwhelming as ever, yet he almost did not notice it. It was like someone else was talking to Thor. Like he was far away, simply watching some stranger converse with his older brother.

“Do you wish me to grovel?”

“No, never…”

“Yet you still leave me exiled.”

“Not by my choice.”

Loki’s laugh was a harsh bark. “ _Your_ choice, your majesty?” How natural it was, that he was at Thor’s mercy. How he would love to seize the throne from Thor’s undeserving hands. “Who else’s, but yours?”

“Don’t! It is not my choice to keep you away! It was Mother -” Thor’s face creased into instant regret.

The chasm opened within Loki at his brother’s words. “Ah.”

“You have to understand…” Thor was imploring him. How odd. “I can’t simply ignore Father’s last order. Not after what you did.”

“Of course.”

“Don’t do that! Don’t -“ He shook Loki roughly. “You’re closing off. You don’t get to -“

“At ease, brother,” said Loki, extricating himself from Thor with more than a little difficulty. “This isn’t closing off. I understand your predicament entirely.” And he did. There was no more ambiguity.

“We’ll fix this. You and I. Like we always do.”

Loki shrank back and it was truly as if he were back on Asgard, overwhelmed by his brother’s presence. It was exhausting. “You need to return to Asgard.” He saw that Thor was about to argue and shook his head swiftly. “No, Thor. You cannot ignore your responsibilities to play around on Midgard. The other realms will look for weakness -“

“Let them look!”

“This is all my fault. You cannot pay the price for my mistakes. I don’t want to always be a burden.”

Thor’s expression softened instantly. “Never, brother. Never. You worry too much, as always.”

He would never forgive Thor. “You have to be ready. Remember what Father would say.” Odin, who would never have banished Thor…

“If Jotunheim is stupid enough to pick a fight, then we will crush them as they deserve.”

“Don’t let it come to that.”

Thor hesitated, then he broke into that eager smile of his, gleaming blue eyes fixed on his baby brother. He stepped forward and grasped Loki at the neck, now with no aggression. “Thank you, brother. I knew I could always depend on your wise counsel, whatever happens. Soon, we will put this foolishness behind us. Our family will be together again.”

Loki’s smile was as earnest as it had ever been. “No, thank _you_ , brother. And despite what you could think of my actions… Never doubt my love for you. The thought of you on the throne gladdens my heart.”

Something in Thor’s expression almost made Loki feel again, almost made him wish he were honest. How his brother deluded himself. Loki could never be part of that world again.

* * *

“So you still don’t know anything?”

“Not much,” said Coulson. “Just that New Mexico has had a very weird storm and since then everything’s been quiet, except for two… rays of rainbow light shooting from the sky not far from the town, less than half an hour apart.”

“Excuse me?”

“I really don’t know how to describe it better. We were still setting up operations and didn’t have eyes close to the site until after the event, but they left some odd symbols in the sand. Nothing else.”

So that was strange. “And apart from that?”

“An odd story about a man escaping from a hospital.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a story.”

“Hospital staff say the patient disappeared into thin air after a lightbulb exploded.”

Maria frowned. “All right, that _is_ odd. What about surveillance footage?”

“There wasn’t a camera in the room, but footage from the hallway shows a woman who the staff swear they’ve never seen before in their life leaving the room shortly after the light went out. Doesn’t look much like the patient either.”

There was a pause as Maria tried and failed to make sense of that. “I don’t suppose they’re on drugs?”

“Regrettably, no. Perhaps a little overdosed on caffeine.”

“Relatable,” muttered Maria. “What are your next steps?”

“We’re at a bit of a dead end. I think we should get the data Foster and Selvig collected, see if there’s something useful there.”

“Confiscate it?”

“Yes.”

Maria thought for a moment. “Bit drastic, but if there’s anything there, we need to know. Go for it, agent. And next time rainbows shoot from the sky, maybe get a good look in.”

* * *

Future him had overestimated his past self. The Allfather incapacitated; Loki still ignorant. Was this truly leading them to a better future? If Asgard’s fate truly depended on his decisions, that was bad luck for all involved.

After all, Heimdall had a track record of making spectacularly bad decisions. Obeying Odin’s edict. Chasing after his love. Ignoring his closest friend’s advice. Abandoning his post. Turning from Loki. Withdrawing from Asgard. A gatekeeper should not be responsible for all of Asgard and yet where the throne had failed, he had not stepped up. Now Gungnir was in shaking hands and the throne barely stood strong, a palace turned inwards and a people both oblivious and powerless. His heart urged him to go to Loki himself, to reach out and help him in ways his family seemed so incapable of doing before he slipped ever further.

As the Allmother drew ever closer, that same heart thudded ever more wearily. A thousand mistakes had led him here - would that Asgard survived long enough for him to make a thousand more.

_What would you tell me now?_

Forgetting was not a privilege available to a gatekeeper, cursed to watch time twisting in unknowable and infinite ways. Each time he grasped on to a strand of meaning, something to make sense of eternity, it moved on.

He needed to confront painful truths.

For that was what the gatekeeper did.

As Loki slipped ever further.

Thor should know.

Loki should know.

The queen entered the Observatory and flourished her dress so that it swished around her as she stepped up to greet the gatekeeper. The House of Odin was all about entrances, Heimdall thought wryly.

“You called?”

“Less of a call and more of a request, my queen,” said Heimdall with as much respect as he could muster and looking at her directly as a mark of his attentiveness. Best start the conversation politely, considering where it was headed.

“Spare me the pretty words,” said Frigga curtly. “Let me guess: you wanted the opportunity to once again critique my parenting skills.”

Heimdall very nearly nodded. “I was thinking more in the lines of offering some constructive advice,” he said, trying to keep his tone diplomatic.

Frigga folded her arms and regarded the gatekeeper with a chilly expression. “Go on.”

“Loki’s connection to Asgard grows ever more fragile.”

The queen jumped in. “I wonder who might be responsible for that.”

“Would you prefer I had kept your husband in the dark?”

“I certainly have little taste for the half-truths you offer.”

“These are not half-truths, your highness.”

“My, my, Heimdall, when did you grow so dishonest?”

Heimdall’s golden eyes stared straight ahead as he suppressed the urge to rise to the bait. “This is a matter that should concern you,” he said eventually. “Loki could decide to hide himself from me.”

“I thought that was impossible?” asked Frigga dryly.

“When it comes to him, I no longer know what’s possible or not,” said Heimdall, the first entirely honest answer he had given.

Was that pride in her eyes? “So what do you advise?”

“That you tell him the truth.”

“And lose him to Asgard entirely?”

“Is that what you think would happen? If you told him?”

“While he is banished? Certainly.”

“I fear you might not have the luxury to wait.”

Frigga’s eyes narrowed even further so that she was almost squinting at the gatekeeper. “What is it you fear? What is it that you are keeping from me?”

Heimdall hesitated. “My watch suggests that the universe grows ever more restless. Asgard must be ready to defend itself, which it cannot do with a divided house.”

“We must wait until the king awakes.”

“And how long might that take? Thor may be… less than ideally prepared for the throne, but it is currently his. Should it not be his decision to make?”

“You don’t trust Odin,” said Frigga. It wasn’t a question. “You would prefer for Thor to tell Loki. Because you think Odin is the poison that rots _all_ healthy relationships. And yet it isn’t your place to decide.”

“And it is yours?” asked Heimdall. “You aren’t afraid of Loki’s reaction. It’s Thor’s condemnation both of you are truly terrified by.”

“Once again, you go too far.”

“I see Loki. I see how close he is to cutting himself completely. Telling Thor the truth now would give him a chance to break their fractured bond and to stop Asgard from straying to a darker path. _Surely_ you must realise the sense of what I say.”

“We would not have to worry about losing Loki if not for your actions.”

The stubborn reply sent a ripple of frustration through Heimdall as he realised this conversation was going in circles. Their generation was stuck in a pattern of deadlock and buckled under the staggering weight of its own cynicism until they lost the creativity to imagine a world in which those who came after them made better decisions than they had. Not so for Heimdall. Maybe, if he did not have knowledge of coming catastrophe, he could have stayed quiet. Not this time. All of this was because people had failed to trust the princes with the weight of the universe and instead of protecting them, both were stunted and woefully unprepared for the challenges they faced. An all-consuming fear of the past was making the repetition of its mistakes far more likely.

Not that Heimdall said any of this. Instead, “Your son approaches.”

Indeed, some short moments later the king entered and was acknowledged with due deference by the two. Thor’s forehead creased as he observed his mother there.

“Mother. I did not expect to see you.”

“Why are you here?” asked Frigga, her voice brittle in a way that did not befit an address to a king.

“I wished to speak to Heimdall,” said Thor, sounding uncertain.

Frigga shot Heimdall a quick glance that commanded silence. “I may have distracted the gatekeeper enough already,” she said, clearly making an effort to smoothen her voice. “In fact, I was hoping to speak to you, my son. If you would accompany me back?”

Thor hesitated and tried to catch Heimdall’s gaze, but the latter continued to stare straight ahead. If he had to guess, the king had come to inquire after his brother’s whereabouts. And so shortly after leaving him. The king could not focus on his duties if he was constantly obsessing over Loki. The current state of affairs could not continue.

“Of course, Mother,” said Thor, evidently reluctant to explain why he had wished to speak with the gatekeeper. After another uncertain look between his two elders, he bowed his head towards Heimdall. “I’ll speak to you soon, Heimdall,” he said.

“I look forward to it, my king,” said Heimdall and noted with inappropriate satisfaction the annoyed look this earned him from Frigga.

Mother and son quickly left and Heimdall was once again left alone with his thoughts. He did not know what was coming. All he had was a sombre conviction that calamity was approaching.

* * *

The desert trapped him. He knew he had figured out how to escape it, but it seemed impossible… Reflexively, he reached for his magic. It was there, yet he had no way of knowing when it might fail him again. How could he plan for _anything_ when he couldn’t even rely on that? Maybe he was broken.

His nose was itching. There was a throbbing pain at the back of his head and he was oddly lightheaded. Nothing about this seemed quite real. The sun hazy as it set, the desert as if it were from a dream… Maybe Loki himself was just another dream. He was back in the town. Was he walking properly? He had not slept in such a long time. Something was uncomfortable - he thought maybe it was his feet but maybe it was just his anger. Or maybe both. What was he angry at? Something was a prison. Something was -

“Eh… Loki?”

He looked up to see one of the mortals addressing him. What was her name again?

“It’s me. Jane, remember?”

Loki straightened and considered the woman with the lively eyes. She met his gaze squarely in a way that suggested she was determined not to be intimidated. It almost made him smile, an urge he had felt little that day.

“I remember.”

“Have you just been wandering around all day?” When he didn’t answer, she sighed. “Come on.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t think you have a place to stay, do you? And you look… You look like you could need a break. And maybe some food.”

He stared at her, then narrowed his eyes. “I don’t need your charity.”

Jane snorted. “Trust me, you’re doing me a favour.”

“In what way?”

“You’ll see.” She sighed. “Look, I’m not going hurt you. But you can’t walk around this town forever. Can you?” she asked, the question sounding half-genuine.

Loki’s frown was answer enough.

“It’s not far.” To his surprise, she reached out a hand and began gently leading him forwards. To his even greater surprise, he did not struggle. It was as if the resistance had simply drained out of his body, replaced by an overwhelming weariness. A tiredness of the pain.

It was as if no time passed before they entered one of the Midgardian buildings. Both of Jane’s companions reacted with surprise, but the other woman - Darcy - led him to a chair and got him some water. The older man, who was introduced as Erik, looked at him with a suspicion that felt only natural. They _should_ be suspicious - it was the openness of the other two that truly disoriented him. Not that he wasn’t disoriented enough. The glass of water still half-full, he cradled it in a way that was almost possessive. It seemed the most precious thing in the Nine Realms. He leant back in the soft chair, aware of the voices around him but not finding it in himself to care about them. The glass cool in his hands and the back of the chair so very soft, he asked for sleep to embrace him. It did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki needs a hug.


	7. 4.1

When Loki woke up, he struggled to remember where he was. Something was constraining him, wrapped over his body. It was soft and covering him, stifling him. He writhed around in panic, sure he had been imprisoned, needing to get free, trying to suppress a scream. The soft thing fell off him easily, falling to the ground as he jumped to his feet and stared at it.

“Jeez, chill!”

He spun around to see one of the women walking towards him - Darcy, he remembered. Had they been trying to trap him? She regarded him with raised eyebrows as he threw a suspicious glance at the bundle on the floor.

“Calm down. It’s just a blanket.”

A blanket? Loki relaxed a little, the fright turning into confusion. “Why…”

“In case you get cold,” said Darcy. “You know” - she made an odd gesture like she was hugging herself and a ‘brr’ sound - “cold.”

“I understand the concept,” said Loki, his tone sliding towards the waspish. Yet the words only made sense a moment later - these strangers had been worried that he might be _cold_? He blinked several times. “Thank you. That was… very kind.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Darcy. “I’m a proper humanitarian, me. Hey, d’you want to grab something to eat with me? I mean, you could eat cereal but I’d like to get out.” She pursed her lips. “Do you even have money?”

Loki was still trying to gather himself but managed to shake his head. “Where would I acquire some?”

Darcy snorted. “Beats me. If you figure it out, do please tell me.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, I’ll buy you something. Once Jane wakes up I’m sure she’ll want to go all science-y on you so this might be the last time I get a proper look of you and” - her eyes slid slowly over Loki from head to foot in a way that very nearly made him uncomfortable - “I think I’ll enjoy it while it lasts. But you should probably put those on,” she said, pointing at some clothes folded over a chair.

Loki frowned at them but picked them up and moved to a place where Darcy could not see him and started changing into them. He suddenly noticed that the glass he had been holding the night before was gone.

She had turned around respectfully before speaking her next words, a little muffled to Loki. “They belong to Jane’s ex. They’ll probably be a little wide but well… better than Erik’s clothes, right?”

“Erik…” He knew he had heard the name before, but it was still a little hard for him to concentrate.

“Yeah, Jane’s scientist buddy. She did introduce him last night but I guess you were pretty out of it. He’s cool, for an old guy.”

“And how old would that be?” asked Loki, mirth entering his voice. These mortals had so very short lives. How quickly would they fade, how quickly would they die and their bodies decay into nothing… The thought did not gladden him.

“You’ll have to ask him. Or maybe don’t. People in America don’t usually go up to other people and straight up ask them how old they are.”

“America?”

“Um… Yeah. You know, the United States of…? Though I think Erik’s actually Swedish or something so maybe you’ll get on all right. After he convinces himself you’re not a serial killer. Which, like, no offence or anything, but you do kinda have that vibe.”

None of this made much sense to Loki, but, having finished putting on the clothes in a way that seemed natural, he emerged and gave the chattery woman a tentative smile.

“He smiles!” said Darcy and when the smile immediately slid off his face, she rolled her eyes again. “No, don’t stop. It looks good on you. As do the clothes. Not many people can pull off the homeless student look but with you it feels like a real aesthetic, you know?”

He did not know.

“Right then, let’s get some food in you.”

Loki was not particularly hungry and yet the thought of the woman helping him was oddly exciting. As he followed her, he felt very nearly happy.

They left and started walking in silence. He was aware that she kept looking at him, mostly with curiosity he thought, and the brief sensation of happiness began to fade. He wanted to cajole his mind into _thinking_ again. He needed to plan his next step, make his next move, but it was proving increasingly difficult to find the motivation to do anything.

All the schemes and plans his mind usually so easily accessed, that rich plethora of thoughts that kept him company over so many years, they had grown so difficult to reach. And there was _still_ that uncertainty about his magic, that lingering doubt that there was something _wrong_ with him… Was that what his mother had wanted to tell him? Was it somehow connected to this strange centuries-old secret she had suddenly decided to bring up?

They entered one of the buildings - a squat, rather ugly thing - and walked towards a counter. Darcy ordered, asking him after some food he did not recognise the name of. He nodded absent-mindedly, thinking about how he was dependent on her for sustenance. Now, he was to be a burden even for these mortals.

“And do you want some coffee with that?”

Loki blinked, focusing on her. “Excuse me?”

“Coffee?” repeated Darcy slowly.

“Eh, sure.”

Not long after, they sat down with the food and coffees.

“So where are you from?” asked Darcy as she began tearing at the food. Loki was studying her movements, learning to copy them as best he could.

“Far away,” said Loki, trying to stop Asgard from filling his thoughts. There was pain but it did not quite connect with Loki. Nevertheless, he wished it could end but was not sure as to how.

“All right then. Be cagey, see if I care.” The words sounded harsh, but Loki did not think she was being serious. “But hey, might as well be good for something,” she added, then held up her communication device. “This is definitely going on Facebook. Smile!”

Loki almost frowned at the weird request and was tempted to grab the device and see what she was doing with it. But she _had_ gotten him food and offered a place to stay and had generally been surprisingly kind to a stranger she had no indication was more than mortal. He forced the corners of his mouth to travel up and Darcy grinned before lowering the device. She raised her mug to her lips.

He stared at her, then shook himself slightly. “What did you mean when you said that your friend will want to go all… ‘science-y’ on me?”

There was a snort from behind the raised mug. She answered after lowering it. “Jane and Erik are both scientists. That’s why they were out there, the night I… you know, ran into you. Jane was studying those freaky storms and… Well, one of the pictures we have show you turning up in it. Like it made you appear or something weird.”

Scientists… Loki rolled over the word in his mind. Students of knowledge. These mortals, trying to understand the universe, trying to figure out things that must seem so strange to them… How far they had come. For some reason, the notion appealed to him. After swallowing another mouthful of the crumbly flat things, he asked, “How about you? Are you a scientist too?”

“Oh no. Well, of politics if you count that, although no one ever seems to do, funnily enough.” Darcy shrugged. “I’m just here because I really needed to get an internship and those things are damn hard to find. Jane might not be paying me, but she _is_ helping me cover the costs which is a lot more generous than most people are. Plus, she’s cool.”

Loki nodded despite not understanding much of this. He took a sip from the mug and a tendril of warmth spread through him at the bitter taste. “This coffee… It tastes good.”

Darcy grinned. “Good! Maybe a bit weird how you’re unfamiliar with _coffee_ but you know what? I’ve met weirder.”

“I very much doubt that.”

“You say that, but I had a boyfriend who had the biggest collection of fruit stickers you can imagine. Like, he literally had hundreds of the things, and they didn’t have particularly cool designs or anything. Just apples, pears, bananas, loads of different fruits in loads of different sizes and shapes. Weird, isn’t it?”

Loki inclined her head in a gesture of vague agreement.

“So how did you end up in that storm?” asked Darcy, before frowning at something in his expression. “You don’t have to tell me, of course, but Jane will ask you later anyway.”

“I was sent here. By my father.”

Darcy looked confused but pressed on. “Why?”

“As punishment.” Loki closed his eyes for a moment. “I played a trick.”

“A trick? Doesn’t sound like the kind of thing you should be thrown in a freak storm for.”

Loki opened his eyes and regarded her ruefully. “You don’t know what the trick was.”

Darcy looked like she dearly wanted to keep asking questions, but shrugged again in resignation. “You’re not one for clear answers, are you.” It was not a question. “So do you have any way of returning home?”

A beat. “No,” said Loki, the word sitting heavily in his throat. He took another sip of the warming drink. “I don’t know what to do next.” Saying the words, knowing they were true, it was a new low.

“We’ve all been there,” said Darcy. “You’ll figure it out.”

The words were surprisingly comforting.

They finished the coffee and headed back to their accommodation. Loki enjoyed walking beside her with her chatting and smile and almost let himself forget a little, as he felt the sun warm his skin.

One of the mortal vehicles was very slowly leaving just as they got back. Jane and Erik were standing outside of the window, through which Loki could see a room looking a lot barer than when they had left. Jane’s arms were folded and she gripped her arms tightly, almost as if hugging herself. Erik was patting her on the shoulder, expression grim.

“It’s all gone…”

Darcy rushed to Jane’s side. “What happened?”

“SHIELD just left,” said Erik. “They took everything.”

“What the hell is SHIELD?”

“Strategic Homeland Intervention and… something. They work for the government but… they’re bad news. You don’t want to mess with them.”

“They took your work?” asked Loki.

They all looked at him in surprise at the question, asked quietly but with an unmistakeable edge.

“Yes,” said Jane. “It’s just… oh god, I don’t know whether I’ll ever figure out how to build that equipment again.”

The fury Loki had managed to suppress for so long burst free. “I’ll get back your work,” he said, his voice no less dangerous for its quietness. “I promise.”

“It’s gonna be - wait, what?” Jane’s mouth fell open as his words registered with her but he was already turning his back and stalking away. The wheeled metal box had been heading out of town and his mind fell into a familiar mode of the chase, supplemented by a pure rage that was easy to access.

“Wait, Loki! Stop!”

But he had already broken into a swift run that no mortal could hope to follow, a run assured to catch up with the slow moving box. It was not much more than a hundred feet away, and it would stop its movement soon enough.

How easily the movement came to him. How simply came the blades to his hands, which he flung at the wheels of the metal box. They penetrated the skin of the wheels easily and something seemed to deflate, leading the metal box to come to a shuddering halt. A moment later, a short man left the vehicle.

It irritated him that he could not easily dismiss these Midgardian drapes, but sometimes illusions were effective enough. With a flicker of green, he garbed himself in his green and leather Asgardian armour. A flick of his hands, and two more daggers appeared in his hands. He grinned - or rather leered - in the direction of the man.

“I believe you have taken something that isn’t yours.”

The bland-faced man considered him with a smile that was a little too unnerved to be convincing. “Identify yourself.”

“Oh, but you first.”

The man paused. “SHIELD. And you are?”

“Taking back what doesn’t belong to you.”

“That really isn’t a good idea.”

“I’ve never been known for my good judgement.”

Loki had used this time to size up the armed men slowly circling him, holding metal contraptions at him - presumably some sort of blaster. He held up his daggers, shifting into a combat position adopted thousands of times.

“Give me what I came for and I will leave peacefully,” he said. Doubtful. His vision sharpened and time slowed around him. He needed this fight.

“Put down the knives,” said the man, unsheathing his own weapon.

Loki grinned and threw one dagger backwards, at a man who had been slowly creeping up on him. He launched himself into the air as he felt the air shift around him with weapons firing.

His empty hand called upon several small knives which almost instantly found their targets in the men approaching to one side. Non-fatal, he would think, but he did not much care. He hit the ground again, right in front of the other assailants.

The man right in front of him shot and he only just dodged. Loki’s teeth flashed at him before he slashed at him with his other dagger, the man able to bring up an arm to defend himself only to scream and fall when its flesh was pierced. He felt the sharp pain of fire grazing his hips and furiously turned and punched the man responsible, so hard his attacker flew back far. The man did not get up.

The sound of their weapons firing made him look up again: the bland-faced man was shooting repeatedly at him. Something hit his left shoulder, tearing through his skin, and he snarled. He jumped again, covering the ground between them easily and plucking the toy from the man’s hands while enclosing the man’s throat with his other hand, raising him into the air and ignoring the man’s gargling sounds.

“This _is_ adorable,” said Loki, examining the man’s weapon. “Almost a grown-up weapon.” Meeting the man’s eyes and grinning at him with relish, he crushed the gun in his hand and let it drop piece by piece to the ground, savouring his eyes widening ever further. “Now. I would collect what I came for.”

Yet at that moment, he heard screeching as several vehicles came to a halt. Reinforcements.

He let go off the little man, who crumpled to the ground, wheezing for breath. Facing these newcomers with rather large weapons, he summoned his magic and created several illusions of himself, throwing caution to the wind. The men were shouting, surrounded by towering men manically laughing while in full armour. At least one started shooting but stopped very quickly when they realised they weren’t hitting anything solid.

As one man came charging right at the real him, he splayed out his hand and made him fly back. He picked off the men, his fists flying and taking them down easily, methodically.

From behind him, he heard a whirring sound and spun around just in time to see an arrow fly straight at him. He held out his hand and in a single fluid motion caught it, mouth quirking into a condescending smile.

Yet it was not to last. He felt a jolt in the hand that held the arrow and an all-too-familiar shock swept through him. He staggered and fell to his knees.

It was all going so well. But it ended in an instant. Before he could get back up, another shock followed the first and as he continued to struggle, again and again. Shock after shock. Eventually, he succumbed. He had been defeated.

* * *

Thor came to him the next day. Heimdall had barely bowed in greeting before the interrogation started.

“What did you speak to my mother about?”

“Should you not ask her that?”

“She is not inclined to give me answers.”

“Then I’m not sure what you expect of me, my king.”

The answer made Thor’s eyes narrow. “I beg you Heimdall. I know not what I have done, what my brother and I have done, that made you cool on your earlier affection. But if you could remember for a moment -“

“I am still fond of you, your majesty.”

Thor scowled at him. “My entire family seems to be determined to conceal truth from me. I had hoped you would at least be honest with me.”

The unusually serious words sobered Heimdall. “Forgive me, my king Though in this instance, it is not your brother at fault.”

“Just my parents?”

How suddenly eager was this man, who unfailingly believed the best of his parents, to entertain suspicions. Maybe these doubts had always been below the surface. Or maybe he just really wanted his brother back. “Your mother and I were… in disagreement over a certain truth your father decided not to tell you. She does not believe it to be the right time, and she may be right. It is the sort of truth that can cause no little pain.”

Heimdall was well aware of how manipulative he was being, however much he might convince himself it was for the good of Asgard. Yet it was undeniably true that this would be a lot easier to justify later if his king gave him a direct order.

Thor complied. “Your king, who you are _sworn_ to serve, orders you to reveal this hidden truth.”

Heimdall almost smiled at the authority in his voice. Perhaps the throne did suit the young man well. But any pride he felt on the king’s behalf was quickly replaced by the jangle of nerves at the prospect of handling this incredibly delicate matter. He had put an awful lot of thought into _whether_ to tell Thor the truth that he had rather neglected the _how_ part of the equation. Now that he came to think of it, he wasn’t sure there were that many sensitive ways to tell someone that their brother wasn’t actually their brother and, oh yes, also belonged to a different species their people had a deep-seated hatred of. However much Heimdall would like to break the news gently to Thor, at some point they would have to get to that singular, irrefutably awkward, fact. It was unfortunate - Heimdall reflected ruefully - that the gatekeepers’ diaries tended to assume successors would deal with emotionally mature kings who had been not lied to their entire lives by the previous king. Wishful thinking, clearly.

“Remember your lessons on the Asgard-Jotunheim War?” began Heimdall.

“When Father crushed the frost giants? Of course.” His brow furrowed even further. “Does this have anything to do with Loki’s plan to smuggle them in during my coronation?”

Heimdall winced at the word ‘crushed’. This was not an ideal start. “Not quite. The war was hugely devastating to both sides. We lost more than we had in a long time… Not just those in Asgard’s protectorates, but Asgardians. Many brave men and women. We were lucky that they never got as far as Asgard but it was a small mercy. It was a shock for us in a way you’re too young to understand.”

“Don’t mock me, old man. I know all of this. Of how the frost giants slaughtered our people. Of how Father fought them in a great battle and slew hundreds of monsters in mere moments.”

“What we tend to forget is how the frost giants suffered. Far more than we ever did, for the war _did_ find its way to Jotunheim. With each frost giant killed, families were torn apart.”

“But they deserved it!”

“Really? And what about the children who lost their parents? Do any children deserve that? Or what about the babies abandoned in the cold to die, for the survivors had not the resources left to feed them? Did they deserve to die?”

This unsettled Thor. “That’s not what I meant,” he said. “This is… What’s the point of all this?”

“The point,” said Heimdall emphatically, knowing there was little point in delaying any further, “is that you should remember any feeling of compassion you just had towards those young frost giants. Remember when I tell you what your parents have hidden that the new born are not responsible for the sins of their parents. And remember that wars are frequently far more complicated and far messier than their victors would have you believe.” The words fell more quickly and readily out of his mouth than any had for centuries.

“What is hidden, Heimdall? Tell me!” The last words were spat out in a mixture of anger and frustration. The moment had come.

“Your brother, Loki. He is not of Asgard.”

“What?” spluttered Thor, but the gatekeeper pressed on.

“He was born on Jotunheim, to a frost giant mother. He was one of those abandoned newborns. Odin found him.”

“No. Stop this -“

“Your father did not leave him to die. Instead, he took him back, disguised him as one of ours -“

“- stop this, stop this now -“

“- but originally, Loki was born to frost giants. And not just any frost giants: Laufey, their king, is his father.”

“Stop!” shouted Thor and lightning crackled around his hammer as a roar of thunder could be heard above.

Heimdall stopped, having said his bit, and looked with solemn regard at his king. He had given the truth to him in a brutal fashion. But that was only because truth itself was brutal.

The thunder died and there was a moment of absolute silence as a hundred expressions passed across the young king’s face, each as fleeting as the last.

“You’re lying.”

The voice was very quiet, as quiet as Heimdall had ever heard it.

He shook his head.

“No. No, that can’t -“ He broke off and staggered a little, as if physically hit by the weight of the truth. “No.”

“My king -“

“You’re lying!” Thor lunged wild-eyed towards his subject and for a moment Heimdall wondered whether the prince was going to attack him. The moment passed. Thor slumped, looking like a part of him had died. “He is my brother.”

“Yes, he is. His heritage does not change the nature of your bond.”

“You’re trying to convince me he betrayed us to the frost giants, but I _know_ he did not!”

“I am trying to convince you of nothing of the sort,” said Heimdall, finally letting the old gentleness creep back into his voice. The effect was immediate as the young king looked up at his former mentor with an imploring gaze. “Loki knows not of his true parentage. His actions were that of a boy, and foolish as they were” - he paused, then pushed on - “I believe they can be forgiven. He is not at fault here.”

“He cannot be a frost giant. I would know -“

“My king. I saw Odin bring him to Asgard myself, along with the Casket of Ancient Winters. Odin has taken care that he never be exposed to something that could reveal his heritage, though I imagine if Loki were exposed to frost giant magic his true form would swiftly be uncovered. As your loyal subject, I swear to you upon my honour that I tell the truth.”

“But… why?”

Heimdall hesitated. “To save a baby.” When Thor made a disbelieving sound, he added, “I believe your father wanted to unite our two peoples through Loki.”

Thor looked at Heimdall with such desperation that the gatekeeper would dearly have liked to hug him tightly as he might have once done the young boy. But even if he had dared to, in the next instant Thor turned and fled the Observatory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update should be there Tuesday. As ever, thanks for all the validation!


	8. 4.2

Maria spluttered into her tea. “Magic? You’re not being serious.”

“Entirely.”

“We’ve seen some crazy shit without jumping to call it magic.”

“This isn’t Stark in one of his iron suits. I don’t know how else to describe it,” said Coulson. “Him taking down several agents like it was nothing was bad enough, especially since he seemed to have to actively restrain himself from killing them. Some of them are in near-critical condition.” There was a sick twinge in Maria’s stomach at that. “But it wasn’t only that. He was making… some kind of illusions, duplicating himself… He made one of our agents fly back; I’m pretty sure he made knives appear from thin air. Oh, and he must also have some kind of super strength, considering he managed to crush my gun with his bare hand. Honestly, commander, I’ve seen some weird stuff in my time but _nothing_ like this.”

“But you managed to subdue him?”

“Barton managed to shock him with one of his arrows. But we needed a _lot_ of voltage to keep him down.”

Maria tried to absorb all of this. She failed. “He was protecting Foster?”

“He was staying with them, we think. Chased after us after we took their things.”

The pain in her stomach became more intense. She set down the cup she had taken with her from the kitchen. “At least he _can_ be taken down. That has to be reassuring.”

“After being exposed to a voltage high enough to take out ten men. And that’s not all. His description matches the guy from the hospital.”

“The disappearing man?”

“Exactly.”

“This is turning into one hell of a mess. Never thought I’d be having a serious conversation with the word ‘magic’ in it,” said Maria, not looking forward to the call she would have to make to Fury later.

“Agreed. I’ll interrogate him once he regains consciousness, which will be interesting if nothing else.”

“There’s a high chance he won’t cooperate with you… But he’s talked with Foster?” asked Maria, thinking fast.

“Apparently. Our team is going through their research right now.”

“Try getting him to talk. But if that doesn’t work, we might have to consider bringing in Foster and her colleagues.”

“Somehow, I doubt they’ll cooperate after we took their stuff.”

“From what you’re telling me, I’m dubious at how long we can contain this guy. So you’d better figure something out, Agent Coulson. And fast,” said Maria brusquely and hung up. She turned only to see her younger brother leaning nonchalantly against the door frame. “You were eavesdropping!”

“You abandoned dinner,” said Aaron. “I thought maybe your work had finally devoured you entirely.” He stepped forward into the room, the light falling more strongly on the scars etched across his face, reaching past his left ear to where he carefully combed his hair over the bald patch. “Who were you talking to?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Aaron took another step forward, his eyes fixed on Maria as he held his hands gingerly with the palms faced to the floor. It was an old habit, one that always made it look like he had injured them. She used to think it was kind of elegant. “So, SHIELD messing with magic these day?”

“You shouldn’t have heard that.”

“Why use my ears when I have eyes? You’ve been nervous ever since I’ve gotten back. At the start, I thought it was just work, or anxiety about how to talk to me… But maybe it’s both.”

“Aaron.”

“You really shouldn’t leave your laptop unlocked when you leave the room.”

Maria started, then considered her brother in horror. “You didn’t.”

“Disappointed, sister?” Aaron’s eyes flashed angrily. “If you were putting your job before me, that’d be one thing. But those results from the storms are pretty similar to something we’ve seen before, aren’t they? And you’d think you’d call in someone who has actually worked with energy signatures like that. Who has studied them more extensively than any other person alive. You trust me so little that you’re even prepared to harm SHIELD just to shut me out.”

“Who can blame me, if you snoop in my stuff! God, what an idiot I am to still trust you at all.”

“I didn’t think you did.”

“You’re demonstrating perfectly why you needed to stop in the first place!”

Aaron gritted his teeth. “All right. Maybe I was out of line. But Maria, you’re dealing with something you have no hope of understanding! The stuff you’re dealing with is out of this world. So huge that it could only come to exist when using chemicals we don’t have in sufficient quantities on Earth, as far as we know. As I’m sure you’re aware, these compounds can be pretty dangerous,” said Aaron, gesturing at his face. “What if the residents of the town are in danger?”

“We have scientists who have studied the same stuff you have,” said Maria, refusing to be apologetic. “Look, you’re still suspended. _Nothing_ you say can change my mind. And as long as you’re here, I’d prefer it if you had the courtesy to not stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

The finality in her voice made Aaron slump a bit. For now, Maria had won the argument. They headed back to where Sahar was waiting.

* * *

“We can’t _not_ help him!” said Jane for what felt like the hundredth time.

“You must have seen something,” said Selvig to Darcy, who gave him an irritated look.

“I told you, I got there too late. If you hadn’t held me up - They were fighting, clearly. All I saw is them… Taking away wounded bodies.”

“Do you think any of them were -“ Jane could not quite bring herself to finish the question.

“I don’t think so. Or… the wounds I saw didn’t look fatal, anyway. And no body bags.”

Selvig swore and Jane paled, while Darcy felt sick remembering the blood splatters in the dirt.

“He’s dangerous,” said Selvig. “I said it and he is. We should stay away. Leave this whole thing alone.”

Darcy wanted to argue, yet could not help but shiver recalling Loki’s grin before he had run after the van. It had been almost… predatory.

“I can’t!” said Jane. “He was our best chance of figuring out what the hell is going on. And I didn’t even get the chance to ask him anyway.” She rounded on Darcy angrily. “ _You lost my evidence_.”

Darcy didn’t even bother to point out how unfair this was. “He’s not your evidence! He’s a person,” she said instead. “And he’s lost. He said all this stuff about… being sent here by his father. Not being able to get back.”

“Really?” said Jane with interest.

“This is all rubbish,” said Selvig. “You said he called himself Loki? We heard stories about him as a kid. You know, the Norse god. Anyone calling himself that, strutting around like he’s never been to Earth before, is clearly delusional.”

“So how do you think he ended up in that storm?” asked Darcy pointedly. “Besides, he did seem to give a bunch of super secret agents a pretty good fight.”

“What, you think he’s actually some kind of god?” asked Selvig and Darcy bristled at his (probably unintentionally) condescending tone.

“Sufficiently advanced aliens could be mistaken for gods by primitive humans,” she said. “I’m not saying that he is really _the_ Loki from your stories, I’m just not going to dismiss the possibility out of hand.”

“Either way, I really want to talk to him,” said Jane. “We should go to wherever SHIELD is shacking up. Surely they’ll have some base of operations or something. Ask them to release him.”

“That’ll go great,” said Darcy. “Yeah, I know this guy went all psycho and attacked you, but he’s a nice guy, really.”

Jane frowned at her. “We can say he was angry that they took our stuff. That he’s a fellow scientist.”

“Without ID?”

“I… eh… I could fake an ID,” said Selvig reluctantly.

Darcy raised her eyebrows. “When did you learn to do that?”

“It’s amazing the things you need to learn to do science in this country. Jane, you still have your ex’s ID, right? But we don’t have a photo of him.”

“Actually, I have a picture of him on my phone,” said Darcy. She showed them. “Would this work?”

Selvig nodded, while Jane looked impressed.

“Kinda surprised he posed for you, to be honest.”

“He did look really confused when I pointed it at him. So if you do your thing, I’ll try to figure out where they’re based?” said Darcy, trying to ignore common sense telling her how hopeless this plan was.

Jane hesitated, then nodded. “I hope this won’t take too long,” she said, looking worried.

Selvig gave her a weak smile, clearly trying to dispel his own doubts. “We prepare the fake ID. Then we go there, promise.”

* * *

“She still treats me like a child!”

The accusation burst out of Aaron, who was barely able to contain his fury as he paced. Sahar watched him with slightly raised eyebrows, sitting with the desk chair between her legs and her chin propped on her arms.

“How much info did you download?” she asked.

“All the stuff she had. She won’t notice.”

“I hope so.”

“You _do_ agree with me, right? I should be allowed to work on this.”

“I don’t know enough about any of this,” said Sahar and raised her hands a little in response to the dirty look Aaron gave her. “Look, I get why you’re angry. But your sister seems to take her job pretty seriously.”

“If she did, she’d let me help. I poured my life into understanding a bunch of alien compounds that ended up blowing up in my face. And maybe I went a little crazy afterwards. But I was trying to impress _her_ and now she won’t even…”

He trailed off, feeling self-conscious with his friend’s sympathetic eyes on him. She was used to him ranting of course, and the way she listened to him was why she had so quickly become his closest friend. That, and how she had slowly helped him enjoy life again.

“So if it’s alien compounds, not that I pretend to understand what that means, and they’re the same energy signatures -”

“- just about a hundred thousand times bigger -“

“- yeah. Does that make this… alien? Like, do you think there are actual aliens in New Mexico?”

He picked up on the poorly disguised enthusiasm in the question. “I think it’s likely.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” He grinned at her and stopped pacing. “Wanna check it out?”

Sahar’s eyes widened. “Eh… That sounds like an extremely not good idea.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been in your country for like a day and they didn’t seem to be too great with me getting in in the first place. I don’t want them to arrest my arse.”

“Yeah, but… aliens. Also, Maria said something about magic.”

“You don’t believe in magic,” said Sahar, the amusement in her voice undercut by strain.

“Yeah, but the files… Look, there’s clearly some weird shit going down. And we’re both pretty down with weird shit, right?”

“Not enough to be to keen on US secret services making me disappear.”

“They’re not gonna make you disappear. Promise.”

Sahar frowned at him.

“If you don’t want to go, that’s cool. But I’m totally going.”

“Why? Because you want to see aliens, or because of your sister?”

Aaron hesitated. “Can’t it be both? Sahar… This could be a once in a lifetime chance. To see something more. And besides, if the scientists down there don’t know what they’re doing… I know how dangerous this stuff can be. I _have_ to see if I can help.”

From the chair, there was a long groan. “I really wish I were the type of person who wouldn’t do this. You know, sane.”

“There’s nothing crazy about grabbing a chance when it’s there.”

“Can’t believe I finally made a friend who’s more reckless than I am.”

Aaron grinned. “No one ever used to call me that.”

“They’re totally going to throw us into jail for the rest of our lives. Best case scenario.”

“But we might have also met an alien. Right, let’s figure out how to use my sister’s security clearance to commandeer a jet.”

* * *

Consciousness dripped back slowly to Loki. As the minutes passed, the spots of dark slowly became lesser as his mind tried to wrestle him back to the world of the waking. Yet something in him was not keen to return.

His eyes flickered open and blinked repeatedly, trying to adjust to the harsh white light. He was in a small room. A cell, came the realisation as the memories flowed back.

 _What an idiotic thing to do_.

And now…

Trapped again.

The short bland-faced man entered the room, having apparently waited for the moment his captive regained consciousness. He wore that same smile that he had earlier and something told Loki this was a man well-practiced at hiding his emotions behind a genial mask. Nevertheless, there was a little strain about him as he stood above Loki, his arms folded.

“It took us quite a lot of effort to get you here,” he said, voice even.

Loki did not even dignify him by meeting his gaze. The humiliation and disgrace of his situation churned his insides. He was sitting chained in a cell. To be interrogated by a mortal. The illusion of armour had faded and these drab Midgardian clothes stuck to him. No longer could he even pretend to be a king.

“You can take quite a bit of voltage.”

These clothes were _filthy_ \- there was a time he would not have tolerated it. Some unpleasant emotion was bothering him but whether rage, fear or sorrow he was not sure.

“But we still managed to subdue you. And we’ll do it again. So I suggest you cooperate with us.”

He had enjoyed the fire of the battle, the thought that at any moment one of these agents could end his life if only they used enough force. But they had not done so.

“And if you don’t… You took down more than a dozen of highly trained agents. Three of them almost died. SHIELD tries not to hold grudges but we might be willing to make an exception for you.”

“You’re lucky I was feeling generous,” said Loki, slowly raising his head to give the man a look that oozed with quiet threat.

The man’s smile widened as he considered Loki. “I’m not sure you’re in the position to make threats.”

“I don’t make threats, only promises.”

A hint of nerves appeared in the man’s face for the first time but he moved on steadily. “Those knives. Can you tell us where they’re from? ”

Loki was suddenly aware of his left shoulder aching in an unpleasant way. The sensation puzzled him before he remembered the fight.

“What are they made of?”

This was so very tedious.

“Back to silence then, are we?”

A sigh. “Perhaps I am simply curious as to what tactic you attempt first. I had hoped Midgard’s interrogation techniques had progressed a little beyond asking nicely and hoping for the best.”

“Midgard?”

Loki fidgeted, wanting to fold his arms too but aware of the shackles constraining his movement. His mind was overtaken by a surge of hatred. To his head came violent thoughts, thoughts of summoning his knives and driving one of them into the agent’s throat - oh the skin was so thin and so very easy to part with just the tiniest expression of thought. And when they retaliated they could try their best to kill him. How hard would it be for their weapons to end his life, he wondered?

“Those illusions you created. Did you use some kind of hologram technology?”

Loki snorted. When had humans grown so arrogant that they believed everything could be explained using their primitive understandings of technology and science? He fidgeted again, these constraints bothering him ever more. His nose itched so intensely he wished to reach up and tear it off.

“Were you in the town’s hospital any time recently?”

What an odd question.

“Can you at least tell as your name?”

He would get his revenge. And then he could rise up and…

“You will have to tell us eventually. But we can make your life very unpleasant for you until then.”

“Wonder what that’s like,” mumbled Loki, not really focused on the man. He wanted the pain to stop - it was so distracting - and his mind flickered to ways he could make it end.

There was silence and Loki discerned that the man was examining him closely. He could not find it in himself to care as he strayed ever closer to the chasm within. They would use everything they knew against him - better to not talk. This conversation was tiring him and he wondered how long the man would make it continue.

Just as he thought that, the man said, “Sooner or later, you’ll talk,” and left the room.

When he left, Loki gradually cajoled his mind back into motion. Figuring out how to leave should be a first priority. Removing these restraints should be simple enough, after that he could walk out unseen. Yet he didn’t know where he was and that uncertainty unsettled him. There was something about this room that screamed makeshift and unfinished at him - like he was in some kind of temporary building. Would they move him to a more secure facility? And crucially - could he trust his magic? He hated that he had to ask himself that question and it _had_ worked well enough against the mortals, yet it was precisely the magic used to hide himself that had left him. What if the mortals had found some way to subvert it? Midgard had clearly come far since they had been here last, and it would be foolhardy not to consider every possibility.

And suddenly, he wondered whether he _should_ leave. These people, whoever they were, clearly carried some power, some authority on this world. Right now he was stranded and worse than that, ignorant. He knew nought of the new ways of this world. But if he managed to somehow meet those with power… Well, more options would reveal themselves, would they not? And his captors had shown little interest in killing him immediately… It was a risky game, which made it all the more appealing. The next time the man came to talk, it would be Loki who did the interrogating. And if that yielded no useful results, he could always escape.

So then, should he simply sit here and wait? It occurred to him that this was quite probably the last thing his captors would expect from here. Good. He enjoyed subverting expectations. And… even though he didn’t much like the inaction this strategy would involve, a somewhat more subtle approach was surely to be preferred over another disaster like earlier. Maybe the rest would do his mind some good.

Loki closed his eyes.

* * *

“I wish to be alone,” barked Thor as he entered the Vault. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see two Einhejar guards look at each other uncertainly. There were footsteps behind him.

“Thor, what’s going on?” asked Sif. She had entered with the Warriors Three right behind her. He wanted to tell them but was not sure how even to begin. She stepped before him and he was about to give her a hug when behind her he saw the Casket of Ancient Winters. Jotunheim’s dearest treasure, presumably taken on the same day as Loki.

He pushed Sif aside, even while realising he had not spoken to her since his ascension to the throne, and strode towards the casket.

“I said I wish to be alone!”

Volstagg’s confused voice, saying, “Thor -“

“Leave!” shouted Thor, turning to furiously regard his friends who looked at him in shock as lightning crackled around Mjølnir. “That is an order. From your king.”

Volstagg was about to say something else, but Hogun reached out a restraining hand. After a tense moment, his friends turned to leave the chamber and soon, Thor was alone.

He stared at the casket, that strange blue light within swirling so strangely that it had drawn his fascination when a child. How had something so beautiful come from a world of monsters?

Monsters…

Thor closed his eyes, unable to look at it. He remembered all the stories they had been told as children, of the murderous savages who lived in frozen wastelands. He remembered drawings they had made of these creatures, with their icy blue exterior poison to Asgardians and their glowing red eyes striking terror into any good being. He remembered his promises to ‘slay the monsters’. He remembered how his father had done nothing but smile indulgently.

It had to be a lie.

Maybe Heimdall was mistaken. Maybe this was a trick, a scheme Odin had concocted many years ago as a way of eventually fooling the frost giants. Surely, if he asked his mother, she would clear up the whole thing as one huge misunderstanding. Thor recalled with a spur of hope: their skin was ‘poison to Asgardians’. He knew well that Loki’s skin was no such thing. But of course, Odin’s magic could have prevented that too… And he realised that he, the mighty Thor, was too scared to ask his mother for the truth.

He opened his eyes and stared once more at the Casket of Ancient Winters and then, with a swell of rage, strode forward and knocked it to the ground. It hit the stone floor with a harsh clatter that reverberated through the vault.

Loki did not belong to a species of abominations.

But memories were rushing to the front now: his mother’s disapproval at the way tutors described frost giants, Heimdall’s wary eyes when Thor talked to him about his planned conquests, how Odin sometimes got that odd look around Loki that was almost mistrust, how different Loki had always been, different from all the other children. Thor had always thought of his little brother as special. And he had so often felt pride at Loki’s cleverness. But there was no denying he had never quite fit in.

That did not make him a frost giant. Could frost giants even be as smart as his little brother? Thor felt a sudden stab of revulsion at himself for the thought. What if his brother really -

And in another rush of memory, Thor remembered every disparaging remark, every hateful comment he had made towards the frost giants. If he really -

How could he ever forgive himself?

And then, Thor was overwhelmed. Sobs racked his body as he fell to his knees. He did not stop for a very long time.

* * *

It took Maria embarrassingly long to find out.

After they had retired for the night, Aaron still snippy but seemingly calm, Maria had not even thought to check up on them in the morning, figuring they had to get over their jet lags. She headed to work, settled down in her office until eventually a somewhat bemused-looking agent poked her head in.

“Eh, Commander Hill? We thought you were in New Mexico.”

Maria frowned. “In New Mexico? Why?”

“The personal jet of SHIELD’s deputy director was checked out last night with your security clearance. It was set down somewhere in the New Mexico desert this morning.” The agent was looking increasingly nervous. “We thought you had travelled there to check out the situation without informing us.”

Maria regarded the agent in utter bewilderment for a moment, before comprehension dawned. “Oh shit.”

* * *

And as Heimdall looked out, he saw the agent barking orders in the cold office interior at a multitude of fast-moving employees. He saw the panic mounting in her as she feared not just for how this could affect the mission, but also the possibility of her little brother coming to harm.

And closer to home, he could see his king staring blankly ahead, hugging his knees in a way made awkward by his expansive armour - the shiny, bulky thing with the huge shoulder pads and the heavy chest piece that pressed against his thighs as he pulled them towards himself - still sitting alone in the Vault. Not much of a king and more of a worried brother, a betrayed son. The tears had dried out but their tracks still ran across his face.

And in a desert, far away, two young mortals left the jet they had so recklessly commandeered. The scientist, dark windswept hair that hid much, jumped onto a rock as he welcomed the slowly rising sun. His lanky physique towered over his companion as he said some words to her with a laugh, staring at the town in the distance with new purpose and resolve. The student smiled at his words, shouldering a backpack as she brushed dark curly hair out of her line of sight. They started walking.

And not far from there, a woman of similar age drove in her car, scanning the desert carefully while her head nodded to the music coming through the devices in her ear, occasionally singing along to a few lines. Something in the distance caught the intern’s attention and she started driving slowly towards it, before stopping completely. In the valley below her was what looked like an entire complex of tents, buildings and watch towers she looked at warily, quite certain they had not been there the day before. After sitting there for a moment, absorbing the sight, she carefully reversed and drove away.

And very close sat the diminished trickster, staring at a blank wall as if it were all his universe. It was hard to guess what he was thinking, even harder to guess at his feelings. Perhaps he himself did not know. He still breathed, his body still functioning in all ways necessary to keep him alive, to show that he was more than dead. Yet sitting there, back straight with his hands held behind him, eyes glazed over and not moving a muscle as black hair no longer brushed back fell around an ever more skeletal face, it was as if an empty husk rested where once had been the tool of a lively mind. And every moment, it threatened to fall into a chasm of its own creation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for comments, kudos, bookmarks & any form of nice support - the very best motivation.
> 
> Guys, I'm ridiculously busy and very tired at the moment. Next update ~should~ be there over the weekend but... no promises.


	9. 5.1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter I ended up subdividing so in order to stay on schedule, I'll ~try~ to post every other day for the next week. We'll see.  
> It's not turning any cheerier, but on the plus side I have pretty much got a rough draft of the whole thing and do plan to write a sequel. With less Loki angst, I'd hope.

“So remind me, when exactly did you learn to steal a jet?”

“I always asked a lot of questions about security procedures and the like. Seemed like the kind of thing that could be useful at some point.”

“How shockingly convenient,” said Sahar wryly, adjusting her backpack.

“What’s really convenient is that the thing flies itself. But it’s amazing the stuff you pick up when your sister seems to be constantly auditioning to be next Bond.”

Sahar laughed. “That sounds so cool. The most useful thing my older brother taught me is how to throw a decent punch.”

“A skill not to be underestimated.”

They had ditched the jet outside of Puente Antiguo, figuring they shouldn’t draw attention to themselves any more than they had to. Aaron checked his phone repeatedly, making sure they were heading in the right direction. The files he had propositioned had quickly pointed him to Doctor Foster, an astrophysicist who SHIELD had been monitoring. Apparently, she had even been in contact with the man who SHIELD thought could do ‘magic’. It was the best lead they had.

“This was way too easy,” said Sahar suddenly. Aaron gave her a puzzled look. “Getting at the files? Stealing a jet from an American intelligence agency?”

“Borrowed.”

“Whatever. Flying it here, now getting in contact with scientists? It’s too easy.”

“Make you nervous?”

“Yeah, it does. Very nervous. It’s too late to go back but that doesn’t mean every ounce of common sense in me isn’t screaming at me right now.”

“It’s not easy. You’re just with someone who’s a lot better at being a spy than anyone gives me credit for.”

“Modest, much.”

“Well, it’s true. I get it: Maria’s the agent and spy, I’m the scientist. But I also spent months tracking down saboteurs.”

“That didn’t turn out too hot for you.”

Aaron scowled. “Maybe not. But I still have plenty of skills to show for it.”

He saw the worried look Sahar was giving him and resented it with a passion. Yes, he was reckless. And yes, maybe he had gotten into a bad habit of throwing himself at danger. But this was different from Beirut. He _had_ to do this.

That didn’t stop a stab of guilt at the thought of Sahar getting into trouble. It was one thing putting himself in danger, quite another to drag someone else with him - someone who had never worked for SHIELD and who was not a US national, with any protections that came with that. But he could hardly leave her behind, right? It had been her decision.

“Besides, nobody expects someone to get their hands on Maria’s security clearance.”

“Fair point,” said Sahar. “So what’s the plan? We meet up with these scientists and… what?”

“Look at their work. They were in contact with… whoever he is.”

“Your sister will find out pretty quickly what we did.”

“Well, let’s just hope we find out something interesting before that.” He bristled at Sahar’s dubious expression. “This was my life’s work, before it blew up in my face. If I could really understand what it all means…”

“It’s not your life’s work,” said Sahar, earning her a surprised look from Aaron. “It’s not. You’re too young for something to be your life’s work. And… there’s still life after SHIELD.”

“If you think that, why are you here?”

“I guess I just really want to meet an alien.”

Aaron couldn’t help but laugh at that. “We’ve almost reached where they should be staying.”

A few minutes later, they did indeed arrive at the address Aaron had found. He exchanged a look with Sahar and shrugged before knocking on the door.

A pause.

Aaron tapped his foot on the stone step and brought his hands together, then put them in his pockets. He looked at Sahar again, who was standing quite still, arms folded.

The door opened and a young woman with glasses peered out at them with considerable suspicion. Her gaze instantly shot towards Aaron’s face, before eventually moving to Sahar.

“Eh… Can I help you with something?”

Aaron had frozen, staring at the woman, before Sahar jumped in. “We’re looking for Doctor Foster.”

“Why?”

“We need to talk to her about…” Sahar looked at Aaron, and when she saw he wasn’t about to help, pressed on. “About some science stuff.”

“Are you with SHIELD?”

“No,” said Aaron, finally finding his voice. He saw that two other people had approached behind the woman. This must be Foster and Selvig. Which made her…? “Can we come in?”

The woman turned to Foster, clearly waiting for a decision. Foster was frowning at them, but after a moment’s hesitation nodded curtly. “Come on.”

They entered the room, Aaron’s eyes instantly drawn to the boards that had clearly recently had papers on them. SHIELD had been here, of course.

“Who are you?” asked Foster.

Aaron bit into his lip, hard, before replying. “My name is Aaron Hill. I’m a chemical physicist who worked for SHIELD.”

Foster’s eyebrows flew to the sky. “But not anymore.”

“No.”

“What happened? They fire you?”

“Suspended, technically speaking. But I doubt they’ll ever actually work on anything sensitive ever again.”

Foster frowned. “Why?”

“I can’t really talk about it. But…” He sighed, wondering whether his next words would get him locked up for twelve lifetimes. “When I got these scars,” he gestured, watching all three members of his audience stare more openly at his marred face, “I ended up going after the people who gave me them.”

“You were attacked?” asked the woman with glasses in a tone of shock.

“Not exactly. I was doing experiments and… someone messed with my calculations. It doesn’t matter,” said Aaron hastily, the looks of sympathy he was getting making him uncomfortable. “What matters is what I was working on. We had chemicals that no one has ever seen on Earth before. Experimenting with them… we ended up creating gravitational waves.”

Foster gasped and exchanged an excited look with Selvig. “You _created_ them?”

“I’d kind of prefer if you didn’t tell anyone. I can’t stop you, but if they know I told you…” Aaron sighed. “When I saw what was happening here, the readings you had… Well, I’ve only seen that stuff once. That time. I couldn’t _not_ come, not after everything I’ve lost…” He trailed off.

“And I’m just along for the ride,” said Sahar. Aaron felt a surge of gratitude as their attention shifted to her.

“How exactly did you know about what was happening here?” asked Selvig. He was eyeing them both with great suspicion - and rightfully so, Aaron reflected ruefully.

He decided that honesty was the best approach. “My older sister is the deputy director of SHIELD.”

This got the shocked reaction he had expected. He raised his hands placatingly.

“I get that you’re angry. But the work I did…” He reached into his backpack, took his notebook and flipped it open to a relevant page, handing it to Foster. “I was experimenting with chemicals I don’t think were… from Earth. Whatever happened here a few days ago, with the storms: the stuff you picked up, I picked up too. The exact same, just way smaller.”

Foster was showing the notebook to Selvig. “Why come to us?” he asked.

“Because SHIELD won’t help me. Because I think you discovered some pretty incredible stuff. And because… You’ve met _the guy_.”

“The -“ started Selvig, then stopped. “What?”

“You know,” said Sahar, “the guy who came with the storm. The magic alien, or whatever he is.”

“Excuse me?” asked Foster. “The what?”

Sahar and Aaron exchanged another look.

“Are you talking about Loki?” asked the woman in the glasses.

“Loki?”

“That’s what he calls himself. We found him in the car. I may have run into him with a car, possibly tasered him.”

“Really?” said Sahar, sounding almost impressed.“Well yeah, that sounds about right. Apparently he used some wacky weird-ass magic against SHIELD: illusions and telekinesis and crazy stuff like that.”

“How do you know this?” asked Selvig.

“SHIELD’s files,” said Aaron.

Foster looked at Selvig. “Okay, we definitely have to get this guy back.”

“Jane, he’s clearly dangerous…”

“But -“ said Foster, almost spluttering with excitement. “Magic!”

Selvig gave her a deeply sceptical look. “Science is one thing. This… this is insanity.”

“See, one thing that happens when you hang around SHIELD types long enough,” said Aaron, “is that you start calling far fewer things ‘insane’.” He looked to Foster. “So you _did_ talk to him?”

“Barely. Even Darcy got in more words,” she said, gesturing at the woman with glasses. “But we’re trying to get him back. Can you help us?”

Aaron hesitated, then shook his head. “Sorry, no. I’m still very much on SHIELD’s naughty list. Especially after… borrowing a jet.”

“Well,” said Foster, disappointed, “we just have to follow our original plan, then.”

“Which is?” asked Sahar.

“Go to their base,” said Darcy, “use a fake ID to pretend Loki is Jane’s deadbeat ex and get him out.”

“Fake ID?” asked Sahar curiously.

Selvig hesitated, then handed her a little pass. She inspected it.

“How did you get a fake ID this good?” asked Sahar, examining the card with interest. “This quickly, too.”

“You’d be surprised at the things you learn to prepare for,” said Selvig.

Sahar’s eyebrows crept up and Aaron promised himself he’d do some research on the scientist when he got the chance.

“Did you hear what we told you?” asked Aaron. “There’s no way they’ll just release him to you after he beat their asses with magic.”

“We have to try,” said Foster with an admirable amount of determination.

“What is it with stubborn scientists?” muttered Sahar.

“There’s no way this will work,” said Aaron.

Foster scowled at him. “I guess we’ll see about that.” She turned to Selvig. “We’re going. Now.”

* * *

“Come on,” said a stranger in a suit. “Get up.”

Loki did so. His left shoulder throbbed in response. He wondered where he was to be taken: possibly a new set of interrogations - or worse - were planned. It wasn’t hard to question the wisdom of the ‘wait and see’ approach he had taken. What if it were best to make his move now? No - there was so much of use he could find out from these people. So much he could use them for, if given the chance.

They walked down a corridor, turned into another corner at the end of which the bland-faced man was waiting… As well as the two scientists. He looked at them in barely suppressed confusion, wondering whether they had been working with these people all along. A twinge of the familiar emptiness waylaid him as he examined them. There was Jane, smiling at him in a way that did not look quite sincere. And there was Erik, who was hovering close to Jane in a protective manner. Like he wanted to jump between Jane and Loki. Determined to keep her safe from harm.

“You can go now,” said the agent when they had approached. He released Loki from the handcuffs.

What?

“You gave us quite a scare, Donald,” said Erik, clapping Loki on the back with a nervous laugh.

Loki, for his part, had no clue what was going on, but thought it might be best to play along. Yet even while thinking that, irritation coursed through him. So much for his plans to find out who these people were and using them for his own ends. If he really went with the scientists, how would that help him?

“Maybe next time refrain from attacking SHIELD agents,” said the agent with that strange smile of his. Loki was well past confused now and was trying to bring himself to accept that these people - who had definitely _seen him do magi_ c _-_ where just letting him go…?

Erik kept his hand on his shoulder and seemed to be steering Loki firmly towards what appeared to be the exit. This had to be some kind of trick.

“Just keep walking,” he muttered into Loki’s ear, lowering his hand.

They started walking towards the scientists’ vehicle, both of the Midgardians looking like they were very much expecting someone to stop them. Jane leaned close to Loki.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

He didn’t know how to explain what he felt to the scientists, but nodded and followed them mutely. In truth, this newest twist was leaving him with even less energy. Every time he came up with some idea to improve his situation, everything seemed to change again. Nothing made any sense in this realm. It made him feel less than real.

They walked past where people were still sorting through the equipment taken from Loki. He vanished the notebook lying on the top of the pile, wishing to take more but knowing it could grab too much attention. Maybe kicking up a fuss would mean he could stay there? Yet he tried to figure out how he would explain why he might want to stay with these ‘SHIELD’ people in a way that would not look suspicious. _Oh, I’d just love to stay a captive. No reason in particular, just fancy the company._ That would hardly work.

“Get in,” said Jane, pointing at the back door of the vehicle. He stared at it for a moment, before operating what he assumed to be the handle and succeeded in opening it.

Loki sat down. He did not know what was going on in his mind, how he was meant to react to this change in circumstances. Each path he chose seemed to instantly close itself off and go dark, and everywhere he turned were choices that seemed ever less viable. It was all growing darker, all growing hopeless when he could not see a way back but knew not a way forward. And with its growth, the darkness was coming so much closer, ready to devour him entirely. He could imagine himself falling into it. For things to just… stop.

The vehicle started with a loud sputtering and Jane began driving. He could see her face in a small mirror attached to the ceiling of the vehicle and after they had turned and were driving along the road, she looked into it, meeting his eyes.

“You shouldn’t have done… that for us. If you did - eh - do it for us,” said Jane, before her expression of reproach shifted to something new. “But… thank you. I won’t forget that.”

Loki’s eyes widened as he stared at her in complete shock. She was… thanking him? When had mortals become so strange? “I… eh,” he started, coming close to stuttering. “Thank you.”

Had he seriously just thanked her for thanking him?

Jane frowned. “Why are you… Never mind. Okay, let’s get you back to the place we’re staying. I would still love to ask you a few questions, if that’s all right, preferably before some other secret organisation kicks down the door or… something.”

“Of course,” muttered Loki absent-mindedly.

From what Loki could see of her in the mirror, she looked pleased. “Great. Oh, and there’s two new people where we’re staying. One of them’s a scientist who worked on similar stuff like the storm we found you in, the other is… I don’t actually know. Well, you’ll meet them in a moment.”

He nodded, then remembered taking the notebook. From a pocket in space, he withdrew it and held his hand forwards to where Jane was sitting. “I believe this belongs to you.”

Jane gasped. “Oh my god, where did you get that?”

“It was lying around. I took it. I apologise for not being able to return more to you.” If he had had a little more time…

“No… Don’t. Seriously, thank you so much. With this… I don’t have to start from scratch.” She turned to beam at him, the motion filling Loki with an unexpected feeling of warmth.

“Eyes on the road, Jane,” said Erik, sounding strained.

“Right.” She turned around again.

Loki leaned back and stared out at the desert.

* * *

“How did he even get my fingerprint?” she muttered for the tenth time, knowing full well it would be child’s play to Aaron. Her phone rang and when she saw Coulson’s name, she felt a shiver of trepidation run through her.

She picked up. “What is it?”

“Guess who’s currently working with Foster and Selvig.”

Maria groaned. “Oh, great. Brilliant.”

“Do you want me to take him into custody?” asked Coulson, sounding like he was trying to suppress a laugh.

She hesitated. “How long has he been there?”

“A few hours. I should tell you that our mysterious magician is with them at the moment.”

It was a point of pride to Maria that she did not get flustered easily, and yet at this news she spluttered into the phone. “What? Why?”

“You said I needed to get answers. I figured he was more likely to talk to talk to Foster so we went ahead and let him go before he could take a more direct approach to leaving. Bugged Foster when she wasn’t paying attention - no one wasn’t quite brave enough to try it on our mystery man. Barton has eyes on them right now. Needless to say, I didn’t realise your brother was involved when I made that call.”

Maria liked to think she was decent at this whole being an older sister business. Yet there were moments - like when her brother was in the middle of the New Mexico desert with some highly dangerous wizard/alien after stealing a spy agency’s vehicle - moments when she could not help but doubt herself a little. “Monitor the situation,” she said, forcing herself to be dispassionate. “We saw how the target reacted when you took Foster’s equipment; I’d rather not see how he’ll react when we pull out one of her associates.” A beat. “Coulson… I hope it goes without saying that I’m really sorry about this. My family mess is putting this entire operation in danger.”

“Happens to the best of us,” said Coulson without reproach. Maria suspected Fury would not be so understanding. “If anything happens, any sign of danger, I promise I’ll pull him out.”

“Thank you.” She closed her eyes, the frustrated realisation of how personal this operation had become overwhelming her for a moment. “Give me a few hours and I’ll be down there. I just need to find a jet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments, which I *am* reading even if I haven't had the chance to reply to them. Do keep them coming!


	10. 5.2

“You want to lift his banishment?”

“Yes, I will lift his banishment. I need him more than ever. With these new revelations about our father’s actions…”

Heimdall noted how he still said ‘our’.

“Are you sure that is wise?

“My whole life I thought the frost giants were our greatest enemy. Now I learn my brother is one…” Thor shook his head. “I know not how to react. I know not what is wise. But I know that I have known my brother for over a thousand years and that the bond we have will not be broken. I need to go to Midgard. I need to tell him that. But I will not lie to him. I need to go to him.”

“Thor -“

“He needs to come home,” said Thor, stubbornly repeating himself. “I need him here. I need to talk to him.”

“And then what? After you tell him? Surely you can imagine why your parents quailed at telling him so long?”

“ _I don’t care_!” shouted Thor, his temper flaring faster than ever. “I don’t care,” he repeated, calmer. “I need to talk to him.”

“Think -“

“I have spent all night thinking. And thinking. And I don’t know what I think. But I know I want to talk to my brother about it. Because he’ll know what to say. He’ll know what to _think_.”

There was a desperate longing in his voice and that steadfast belief in Loki seemed no weaker than ever. Heimdall suspected Thor had not quite yet processed the truth of what Loki truly was. Yet he was not blind to the Casket of Ancient Winters resting in Thor’s satchel. The key to revealing the truth. And - even more intriguingly - Einhejar handcuffs. Thor clearly had not entirely lost possession of his senses, yet Heimdall thought it wise to push a little further.

“You have to consider how Loki might react to these revelations.”

“I bet he’ll be angry. And he deserves to be.”

“At who? Your parents?”

Thor hesitated, then nodded. “Our parents lied to us.”

“Have you spoken to your mother about this?” asked Heimdall, knowing that he had not.

“No. If she wishes to explain herself, she can do it to the both of us.”

“You should talk to her before going to Loki.”

“No. I have done enough talking. Enough thinking. You all wanted to keep this secret from him. He deserves to hear it from me.”

So this was how it would be. The king, running away from his responsibilities… And as a result of Heimdall’s actions, no less. A divided royal family distracted from its duties, the very thing Heimdall had been trying to prevent. Oh, the irony.

Gungnir was nowhere to be seen. Or rather, Heimdall could see it: stowed away in Odin’s vault, reduced to the role of some old artefact of little relevance. Thor still carried the weapon of a warrior.

And all the while, the court stewed in uncertainty. It was a small mercy that Sif had taken it upon herself tomake sure the palace did not collapse completely from negligence. The land could be burning and he doubted the king would even notice. Luckily, Thor had made friends capable enough of stepping up when they needed to without even asking for permission.

There was no point discussing any of this with the Odinson. He could only attempt to salvage that which was already broken.

“Your parents didn’t want him to feel different.”

“But he _did_ feel different. And all this time…” Thor closed his eyes, face scrunched up. “He never had the chance to understand. And I wasn’t there.”

Heimdall saw the young king’s guilt and wondered to himself what exactly he had expected to happen. Things were spiralling ever further out of control. And he clearly didn’t know what he was doing. How badly would Loki react to the truth? He honestly had no idea.

Thor was glowering impatiently at Heimdall. “Why are you so ready to dither now?”

“Hasty actions can lead to calamity."

“We were lied to for a _thousand years_!” shouted Thor, spittle flying from his mouth, then shook his head as his expression turned forlorn. “We were taught that the frost giants are monsters. How could Father do that, knowing what he did of Loki’s heritage?”

Heimdall stayed silent, not willing to speak his true mind.

Thor looked once more at his gatekeeper, expression more set than ever. “This is a direct order from your king. You _will_ open the Bifrost and send me to Loki. Now.”

He had little choice.

* * *

Aaron could not help but stare as the slender thin-faced man entered. Darcy jumped to her feet as the two scientists followed and Foster closed the door behind them, looking tired but pleased.

“So, we got him out,” she said, a little breathlessly. Aaron frowned: he couldn’t believe SHIELD would have let the man go. What sort of story had Selvig and Foster spun?

Wait… No. That was definitely really, really strange. Why would SHIELD let Loki go, knowing what they did? Studying this kind of guy was literally their raison d’être, yet they had simply let the man waltz out with a fake ID and some mouthy scientists in tow.

What was Maria’s play?

And then it hit him. Foster was being used as bait. SHIELD must have made the simple calculation that if this wizard or alien or whatever was to go crazy again, better it wasn’t on their turf. It made sense, of course. Foster had successfully made contact and might get answers where SHIELD would fail. And this man had already proven himself highly dangerous, so better let him go on their own terms and assess his threat level from a distance than have him damage SHIELD assets.

He hadn’t figured his sister as this cold.

Yet for now, he had to refocus on his immediate surroundings. There was more than a little tension in the air. A distinct wariness of this stranger as they all watched him, each seemingly unwilling to make the first move. No wonder. There was a… stillness about him that was disconcerting.

He was still frozen and staring when he realised that Sahar had passed him and stuck her hand out firmly. “I’m Sahar,” she said, with a confidence that Aaron admired immensely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The man stared at the hand for a moment too long and Aaron was sure that he was not going to take it. But to his surprise, the man shook the extended hand. Aaron could see Sahar wince a little, hidden well enough that the others might not notice. “Loki.”

“I’ve heard,” said Sahar, taking back her hand and massaging it for a moment with the other. She grinned. “Strong grip.”

Aaron propelled himself forward and gave the man what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Aaron.”

Loki shook his hand in turn. Strong grip was an understatement, Aaron thought ruefully as he felt his bones slowly turn to dust.

“Well, that’s the introductions out of the way!” said Darcy with false chipperness. “How did the super special agents treat you?”

Loki’s eyes skated over her and then settled on a point in the distance, almost as if none of them were there. “Cordially enough.”

“Do you want something to drink?” asked Foster, placing a thick notebook on the table with care.

Darcy stared at it. “Wait, how did you get that back?”

Foster gestured at Loki. “Turns out our guest is a pretty good thief.” Colour rose to her cheeks. “I don’t mean that in a bad way…”

One end of Loki’s mouth was tugged up in the hint of a smile. “Oh, I take it as a compliment.”

“Good,” said Foster before her face slipped into a disconcerted expression. “So, about that drink…”

“Some water, perhaps?”

Foster rushed to get a glass as the other two tried to busy themselves too. Meanwhile, a glance at Sahar confirmed that she was watching this newcomer closely, with little reservation about staring quite openly. Loki seemed to notice as he turned to her with raised eyebrows.

“Do you want something?”

She still didn’t look particularly unnerved. “So, is Loki a stage name or something?”

The man looked taken aback as their hosts stared at them while simultaneously trying to avoid making it obvious that they were staring. In this endeavour, they were failing spectacularly. “I beg your pardon?”

“Just wondering whether Loki is a name you adopted at some point. You know, as an alias.”

Loki considered the questioner with a furrowed brow. “It’s my name, I assure you.”

Sahar nodded. She exchanged a look with Aaron and gave a small ‘what the hell’ kind of shrug. Casually folding her arms, she shifted her attention back to the man. “You’re not from around these parts, are you?”

Foster handed Loki the glass of water, which he accepted with a thin smile and sipped at, eyes fixed on Sahar. They were all waiting with baited breath for his response.

“No, I suppose I am not,” he said, his fingers tapping lightly against the glass.

“And… where are you from?”

Loki cocked his head to one side before answering. “Asgard.”

Selvig made a sound that resembled a snort and Loki’s eyes flickered over them, the coldness in his expression causing the scientist to take an involuntary step back. His gaze travelled back to Sahar just as quickly, almost as if trying to gauge her response.

“Is that another planet?” she asked, seemingly unfazed.

“In another realm, yes.”

Sahar sent a quick frown in Aaron’s direction and he pulled out his phone, putting his faith in the power of Google. “These are the nine worlds?” he asked, shivering slightly as Loki looked at him. “The ones linked by the world tree, Eegg… Jggdr… Jgg - drah - zeel?” He felt himself going red and could see Sahar smirking from the corner of his eyes, but his attention was focused on Loki.

The wiry man was frowning at the phone and Aaron suddenly wondered whether he knew what it was. “You’re very well-informed.”

“Not really. I just looked it up.”

“That device. It can be used to acquire information?”

Aaron stared at him for several moments before he found his voice again, keenly aware of Loki’s impatience. “Eh… yeah. You can use it that way, yeah.”

“Does it have a map of your world?”

Suppressing any consideration of how ridiculous this conversation was swiftly becoming, Aaron nodded and opened Google Maps on his phone. He was about to ask Loki whether he wanted to take a look when Selvig cleared his throat, looking more than a little nervous.

“You’re talking as if… you’re not familiar with phones. As if it’s not your world.” Selvig looked around at the others. “I can’t be the only one to find that a little hard to swallow.”

“I don’t care whether you believe me or not,” said Loki.

There was an awkward pause.

“Do you want to see…?” asked Aaron, holding up the phone hesitantly.

Loki nodded and crossed the little space between them with long steps. He peered at the phone in a somewhat suspicious way, like he was half-expecting it to blow up. For the moment at least, the others seemed to have decided they were going to shut up and see how this went, which was great except it meant that all the attention from this… whatever he was was focused on Aaron.

“So… This is the world,” said Aaron. He zoomed in on the blue dot. “And this is Puente Antiguo, where we are.”

“Do you have bigger settlements than this?”

“Oh yeah,” said Aaron and emitted a nervous laugh. The look he got from Loki made him instantly regret it. “We have… loads of cities. Way more people than here.”

“And how do you get there?”

“You can use a car, or if you’re lucky like us,” he said, gesturing at him and Sahar, “a jet.”

“A jet?”

“It’s like… a flying vehicle. It’s a lot faster.”

Loki frowned. “You got here by flying?”

Aaron nodded.

“And this vehicle is still in Puente Antiguo?”

“Just outside it, actually,” said Aaron, indicating and zooming in on the purple pin he had put down to mark its location.

Sahar coughed.

“And you can just fly it?”

“It flies itself. I mean, obviously you need security clearance…” Aaron gestured in the direction of his bag and Loki’s gaze followed his hand. “But then it’s just enter the coordinates and off you go, since I left it on stand-by.”

Sahar coughed again, louder. “Hey, Aaron, didn’t you and Doctor Foster have some questions you wanted to ask Loki?” She said this in a very pointed way that finally made Aaron pay attention. He looked at Foster, who seemed to shake herself to return her mind back to the here and now.

“I do actually have a few questions,” said Foster, looking flustered yet determined.

“Same,” added Aaron quickly.

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble,” said Foster.

Loki’s gaze rested on her, as if sizing her up. “All right,” he said eventually. “It seems the least I can do.”

“Okay! Great,” said Foster, picking up her notebook and flicking through it. “Great.”

“How did you get here?” asked Sahar, clearly not willing to wait for the scientists to get their act together.

“The Bifrost,” answered Loki, and took a last sip from the glass of water, finishing it before walking over to the counter and setting it down with a small clunk, then turning around and leaning back.

“Like…” said Aaron, frantically googling, “a rainbow bridge?”

The corners of Loki’s mouth twitched. “Yes.”

“How does it work?” asked Foster.

This time, Loki could not suppress the smile. “That’s a rather broad question.”

“It’s a kind of portal, right?” asked Foster. “We’d call that an Einstein-Rosen bridge.”

“So there must be some kind of exotic matter on that end,” said Aaron, quickly reaching into his backpack and grabbing his own notebook. “It’d make sense that the stuff I experimented on came from… Asgard originally.”

“Experimented on?” asked Loki, who was eyeing the two of them with ever greater curiosity.

“Yeah,” said Aaron, showing him the page where he had summarised most of his equations before wondering how any of this was to make any sense. “A few years back, we used some very weird compounds to create… well, I guess it might have been like a mini-Bifrost.”

“A mini-Bifrost?” repeated Loki.

“I mean, probably not. I’m guessing it’s very different. And it kind of blew up in my face, hence all this,” said Aaron, gesturing at his face. “But the energy signatures we managed to record before matched the stuff Doctor Foster recorded incredibly accurately, just far smaller.”

There was another pause, in which Loki stared at Aaron with open amazement, making the latter progressively more nervous. Then, to the surprise of all present, Loki laughed. It was an odd noise that managed to sound simultaneously half-suppressed and slightly hysterical.

“Midgard has progressed a lot further than we gave it credit for,” he said after he stopped laughing. “Most _Asgardians_ would struggle to explain how the Bifrost works, let alone be able to replicate any of its properties.” He started pacing as the others’ eyes followed him keenly, but for now he had fallen silent.

“Can I just go ahead and ask a more obvious question?” asked Sahar. “Just to keep the scientifically-illiterate among us on board.” She winked at Darcy, who stuck out her tongue.

Loki stopped pacing for a moment and regarded her with raised eyebrows.

“Well, you’re a figure from Norse mythology… But you’re also alive. Obviously. So I can’t help but wonder… How old are you?”

A beat. “I had gotten the impression that this is not considered an appropriate question on Midgard,” he said, looking at Darcy.

A little red rose into her cheeks. “The exception makes the rule?”

“In that case, I’m over a thousand Midgardian years old.”

The assembled humans showed diverse reactions of shock, including a film-worthy double-take from Darcy. Sahar, however, pressed on.

“And why did you come to Midgard?”

Aaron noted with interest that Darcy’s forehead instantly creased, as if she knew this was a sensitive topic, and by the way Sahar’s gaze rested on her she had noticed it too.

Loki began pacing again. “I was banished here,” he said simply. After a pause, “I acted… foolishly. And now I doubt I will ever be allowed to return.”

“So what will you do?”

Aaron noticed Loki had started wringing his hands in a motion of agitation Aaron was intimately familiar with.

“I don’t know. I think -“

But before he could answer, the door was wrenched open. They all spun around, not knowing what to expect. Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron saw with a twitch of nerves that a knife had appeared out of nowhere in Loki’s hand.

In the doorway stood a blonde giant of a man, dressed in full armour and a billowing red cape holding a bulky monster of a hammer, gaze fixed on Loki.

“We need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is being posted later than I planned. Hopefully the next update will be soon, depends a lot on work stuff.  
> Always happy to read comments!


	11. 6.1

“You have to come home!”

“No,” spat Loki. “ _Get off_ _me_ , brother. You can’t just call and expect me to come running.” He yanked his arm away. “I said no -“

“Will you just listen to me?”

Loki’s response was a mirthless laugh. “You’re the one who insists on interrupting me at every turn.”

“Eh…” Jane’s quiet voice came from the corner. When Thor burst in, the Midgardians had gotten out of the way between him and Loki pretty quickly. Some of them now looked as if they would quite like to become one with the walls. “I’m sorry, but… who are you?”

“My name is Thor,” he said, turning to her. Then, gesturing at Loki, “This is my brother. I need to talk to him.”

“I don’t want to talk!” said Loki.

“Um… Thor, is it? Eh… My name is Jane… Look, I don’t want to intrude but… your brother is _my_ guest and if he doesn’t want you here…”

Loki’s expression had a kind of wild triumph as he backed away from his brother towards Jane. “You heard her. My position was made perfectly clear to me the last time you were here so there really isn’t any need for you here.”

When Thor finally left, he would no longer dither in hiding himself from Asgard.

“You don’t understand. Everything’s changed.”

“ _I don’t care_ ,” said Loki vehemently. “Will you ever listen to me? Can’t you just -“

“They lied to us! Father, Mother… Much of Asgard.” The words burst out of Thor, no longer to be contained, but then he went silent and looked at his brother with… fear. Stronger than Loki had ever seen before.

Despite himself, curiosity welled within him. Before asking Thor to explain himself, he remembered the watching Midgardians. “I think perhaps we should take this conversation outside,” he said before turning to Jane. “If you would excuse us for just a moment…?” he said, infusing his words with the right amount of questioning.

Jane nodded, looking numb, and Loki turned and strode out, not waiting to see whether his brother would follow him.

He did. Loki could hear him stomping after him and stopped after just a few steps. He stared out at the desert as he felt the Midgardian eyes on him, trying to sneakily observe through the window. Luckily he was not in the habit of revealing anything of importance through his face.

Thor caught up with him, moving in front of him. In these new surroundings, Loki was struck by how odd his brother looked, almost ridiculous in his heavy armour and bright red cape. Had his shoulders always been quite so broad? And - unusually - he was carrying a rather sizeable satchel on his shoulder. Why?

“Brother… I must tell you something. But you have to understand that I think no less of you because of it, only of our father for keeping it from us.” He was speaking quickly, and as if always close to stumbling over his words. “Whatever is to come, you will _always_ be my brother. Nothing can take our many shared years from us. Nothing can ever taint that bond.”

Loki regarded his brother with raised eyebrows. “You do realise how ominous this little speech sounds to me. If this is about the spindle, I told Mother I didn’t do it.”

“This isn’t about the spindle, even though you _did_ break it.”

“I didn’t.”

A smile flitted across Thor’s face but it never reached his eyes before it vanished. Those blue eyes were as open and trusting as ever. Yet a wariness hung around him, but not one directed at Loki. For his part, the trepidation was steadily mounting in Loki. This had to be linked to that ‘truth’ his mother had wished to tell him of. What had she said? That she doubted some of Odin’s decisions, including things he had concealed from them… For their own good, even if it had ended up harming them…

Had she told Thor, whatever it was? What could possibly agitate his brother this much?

“If you have something to tell me, brother, I suggest you get on with it.”

“Loki… I tell you this not because I do not care for you, but because I believe in telling you the truth.”

“Like I said, get on with it.”

Thor looked deep into his brother’s eyes for another moment. The intensity of his gaze made Loki feel like he was the one who was meant to supply answers, rather than the other way round. “Heimdall told me that… that you are not of Asgard.”

Loki stared at him with open confusion. “Clearly he’s taking this whole me being banished thing fairly seriously.”

“That’s not what I meant.” It was harder to read his expression than usual, partly because there were so many emotions there: chasing each other around, each more fleeting than the next. “You were not born on Asgard. You are my brother… But not of blood.”

“Not of…” Loki frowned. “What madness is this?”

“Heimdall told me that you were born on Jotunheim. To frost giants.”

“If this is your idea of a joke -“

“It’s not,” said Thor. He had never been any good at hiding his emotions and indeed, there was no hint of a lie on his face.

“I am of Asgard,” said Loki. His voice sounded feeble, even to himself. “Like you.”

“In everything but blood,” said Thor in his most earnest voice.

“Heimdall’s lying to you and like a fool, you’ve bought it. As pathetically guileless as you -“

“Loki. Please.” A deep breath. “I brought…” He picked up the satchel, opened it to reveal a glowing blue cube with two handles. “The Casket of Ancient Winters. I think if you are of Jotunn heritage, it might… reveal itself.”

Thor stepped forward and Loki took an involuntary step back, making him pause. His gaze was more imploring than ever, those bright blue eyes verging on the wet.

“Please.”

Loki accepted the casket when it was offered to him, for he too _had_ to know. Awkwardly, he took it from Thor’s hand, bare hands brushing against each other as he clasped each handle tightly. The metal was cold to touch, but not uncomfortably so, and he stared into the swirling blue inside that seemed to hide entire worlds - frosty landscapes, empty treetops, icy cliffs - all just out of reach.

He realised he had never held it before. Odin had been so very strict about them staying away from it… So much harsher than about anything else, but Loki had always thought it was because it was Asgard’s greatest treasure, a symbol of their greatest triumph.

He stared at his hands, now the filthy blue of a frost giant. His skin besmirched by their foul marks.

Gasps from inside.

His face… Had it -

It was true.

 _It was true_.

 _You’re a monster_.

A banished monster with no home and no people. His family had rejected him twice-over - and why wouldn’t it when he was -

Lost.

The chasm within was ripped open.

And he let himself drop into it.

Embracing it.

He let the casket fall to the ground.

A dagger appeared in his right hand and he clasped it with his other. It was so much easier in thin Midgardian clothes - all it took was a single, strong jab into the heart. Then it would all be over.

“No!”

He closed his eyes, not brave enough even to see, and brought the dagger towards him without hesitation.

But the blade stopped before it could pierce his skin. What had - Opening his eyes, he looked down and saw that something had become between him and sweet release - a hand, now blood-drenched. The point of the blade had gone the whole way through and was now the shining tip was peeking out at him, as if mocking him.

Everything was frozen in place for a single, terrible moment.

Then the shouts came, as if from far away. Loki looked up to see who had stopped him. Thor’s all too bright blue eyes stared back at him and it was as if he did not even feel the injury to his hand. He must have tried to grab the blade when he saw Loki’s intent, but acted too late to stop the stabbing motion. Loki snarled. His mind was still sluggish but he let go of the dagger and instead summoned yet another blade.

“That’s not happening!”

Rough hands struck his arm, strongly enough that he let go of his weapon, then grabbed at him and threw him to the ground. He fell hard, dust flying up his nostrils as his back throbbed in pain. Nothing but a thin layer of Midgardian clothes to protect him from the earth.

A heavy weight impacted on his chest, pressing against his ribcage as if quite determined to crush him. He raised his head slightly to see Mjølnir lie snugly on him. Reaching out his hands to grip at the handle, he struggled for a few moments in a useless attempt to raise it off him.

Pinned down by his own unworthiness. How ironic.

There were shouts above him and he could not focus on the bustling confusion. Blood dripped to the ground close to him. Thor’s, he thought. An ugly sound that might just belong to a dagger leaving flesh.

“We have to treat that!”

“It’s fine. It’s not that bad.”

A hysterical laugh.

“Your hand!”

“Oh shit. Oh shit.”

“What happened?”

“What the fuck was that?”

“Give him some space.”

“Is he -“

“He turned _blue_.”

During all this chatter, he just lay there.

It all continued, a wave of sound washing over Loki. Moments passed or maybe more, maybe less. He couldn’t even shift the stupid thing and instead had to feel it crushing him in a relentless reminder of Thor’s superiority.

The hammer’s weight left him, but before he could move he was thrown on his chest and his hands were pulled back with a strength only his… only Thor possessed. A moment later there was a sickening click of Asgardian handcuffs. Trapped again. Pulled to his feet with that same strength, he was brought face to face with that broad face, full of fire and loose hair and emotion.

They met each other’s eyes for a moment before Thor broke eye contact while still clutching Loki close. He threw his head to the sky, staring up far above.

“Heimdall, take us back!” shouted Thor.

No response.

“Heimdall!”

Still nothing.

“Heimdall?”

The sliver of Loki’s mind that was still functioning normally couldn’t help but wonder how weird this must look to the watching Midgardians.

“This is your king, _ordering_ you to bring us back!”

But whatever Heimdall was doing, he clearly wasn’t in the mood to obey orders.

* * *

Heimdall was, in fact, not in the Observatory and thus not able to follow Thor’s command. Instead, he was rushing towards the palace for an urgent meeting with the queen.

Heimdall had screwed up. There was no point being diplomatic about it: he was sworn to serve Asgard and its prince had just tried to stab himself as a result of his actions. There weren’t many ways he could fail more grievously at his duties - well, there was the whole matter of the possible future destruction of Asgard but at the present moment Heimdall did not feel like he was doing much of a good job of preventing that. It was all spinning out of control at an alarming rate.

He had hoped the encounter between the two would end with both of them on Asgard in a reasonably good shape, preferably united. Of course, there hadn’t exactly been many good ways Loki could have reacted to Thor’s news, but this was getting pretty close to the worst case scenario. For now, Heimdall had to trust that Thor could contain Loki while he conversed the queen over what the hel they were going to do next.

When he was allowed into the queen’s chambers, she turned to face him with a look that clearly asked _what have you done now?_ \- a sentiment he resented, however accurate it might be in this instance. Her eyes flickered up to his unadorned head, hair flying loosely around him as he had ditched the heavy golden helmet in the name of speed. It felt strange to face her without it, like he had lost a layer of protection that his position provided him.

“I told Thor of Loki’s heritage,” said Heimdall, getting right to the point.

Frigga regarded him in a way that suggested she was carefully considering every method she could use to give him a gruesome end. Even to an all-seeing gatekeeper, it was unnerving. “When?”

Heimdall hesitated. “Yesterday.”

If he had thought Frigga could not look any angrier, he had been mistaken. “How have I not heard of this?”

“You were busy tending to Odin.”

Frigga crossed over to the small table in her chambers and quite casually picked up one of her small daggers. “Where is he?”

“On Midgard. Thor… has told Loki. He is now calling for my return.”

“Then for Asgard’s sake, watcher, _what_ are you doing here?”

“I thought best to inform you of new circumstances.” Another moment of brief hesitation. “Loki did not react well to the news.”

“You don’t say,” said Frigga, polishing the blade with the sleeve of her dress.

“He… attempted to stab himself. In the heart. Thor managed to stop him.”

“What?” Frigga looked up and her face collapsed into one of horror.

“You see why I thought it might be best to come to you.”

“ _How could you do this_?”

“Thor gave me a direct order to tell me the secret you were hiding from him,” said Heimdall, well aware of how feeble it sounded. “I understand that you must be angry right now -“

“Angry doesn’t begin to cover it.”

“We both want what’s best for Asgard.”

“You have an interesting way of showing it, ignoring Odin’s wishes and hurting both of his sons in the process.”

“In Asgard’s interest.”

“The difference between us is that I believe what’s best for the king is what’s best for Asgard, which you evidently disagree with.”

“No, the difference is that I am able to acknowledge that those two things _could_ be in conflict. Besides, I obeyed a direct order by my king, so I am hardly the one in disagreement with the throne.”

“One you manipulated him into making!”

“Or maybe you have grown too attached to _one_ king, who is not, after all, currently on the throne.”

“You’re a hypocrite, Heimdall, and you don’t even realise it.”

“This conversation is pointless. We need to decide what to do, for Asgard’s sake and for Loki’s -“

“How can you even pretend to care about Loki? You abdicated your responsibility a long time ago!”

“And I don’t deny my blame in what has developed.”

“Is that so? And here was I thinking denying blame was all you were about. That and playing your own little games. You might think you are so irreplaceable but at some point, _gatekeeper_ , the line has to be drawn.”

Heimdall sighed.“This is all well and good, but what do you suggest we do _now_?”

Frigga laughed, an unusual touch of hysteria in the voice. “Oh, it’s _we_ now, is it? This is simply fantastic.”

“My queen…”

She too sighed, anger draining out of her as she frowned into the distance. “You’re right: this can wait for later.”

“Do you wish me to transport Thor and Loki to Asgard?”

“He ordered you to do so, did he not?”

“Yes.”

“Well, don’t start disobeying his orders now.” She placed down the dagger on the table and started walking towards the door of her closet. “I had better prepare myself.”

“Do you have a sense of how Thor will act when he returns?”

Frigga spread her arms in a gesture of resigned helplessness. “Thor is our king and it is his judgement we must now answer to. Go on: return to your post, gatekeeper. Return my sons home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay first this is late, sorry about that but I did want to make sure I could avoid too long a gap after this one. It’s a pretty mean chapter to just leave standing there for a fic purporting to be a fix-it, after all.  
> Second, [here's](https://arimabat.tumblr.com/post/176162559177/boae-meta-1) a slightly nerdy meta post on what Loki did.  
> Lastly, isn’t this meant to be a fix-it? Eh… Look, it’ll get there eventually. But I did want to write something that felt true to the characters, and it’s really hard to get around the fact that Loki’s psyche even at the beginning of Thor I is… troubling. But it will get better.  
> Do comment, you won’t have to wait long for the next bit.


	12. 6.2

“So do you want to hear the good news or the bad news?” asked Coulson.

Maria gave him a tired look.

“Short version: While you were in the air, a big rainbow flashed down onto the ground and now we have a second alien in the same place as the first one. Also, we think the first alien may have tried to attack him or maybe even kill himself, possibly both, after talking to the second alien. Barton’s not too clear on that. We do have a transcript. Oh, and he said he heard the civilians call the two aliens Thor and Loki, like the Norse gods. I don’t even know whether that counts as good or bad.”

A pause. “And the good news?” asked Maria, feeling like she had aged two decades in as many days.

“I think your brother and co befriended the first alien. Loki. They were chatting quite a lot before the other guy turned up, apparently.”

“Of course he is,” said Maria in tired resignation. “Though I’m not sure how that qualifies as ‘good’.”

Coulson shrugged. “I’m going to go ahead and say I’d prefer it if the magic-using alien who is possibly a god makes friends with humans opposed to, you know, killing them.”

There was little point in arguing that. “So what’s going on now?”

“One of the aliens is sitting handcuffed to a chair, last I heard. The first one. The other one is talking to the civilians. Do you want us to go in?”

Maria hesitated. “I don’t want to make the situation any worse. What would you recommend?”

“I”d recommend we wait, but it’s not my brother in there.”

“I can’t make my decision dependent on that.”

“You can’t ignore it.”

“I have to,” said Maria, taking a deep breath. “We wait.”

* * *

“What exactly did you tell him?”

“I fear that this is an Asgardian matter.”

“Oh? I don’t suppose it has anything to do with him turning _blue_?”

“Sit down, Loki - I cannot explain right now -“

“Are you also blue?”

“No, could you -“

“Why won’t you tell them, Thor?” asked Loki, his voice filled with a bitterness Thor had _never_ heard. He looked to the mortals and his mouth spread in a manic grin before the words spilled out. “I am not of Asgard and not his brother. As Thor has informed me, I am a frost giant, a monster from the frosty wastelands of Jotunheim.”

The mortals looked at Loki with expressions that ranged from confusion to unease.

“Eh… So that’s bad?” one of the female Midgardians asked.

Loki’s grin slipped for an instant, then re-asserted itself. “Ask Thor.”

“It isn’t bad,” said Thor after a second too long of hesitation. Loki did not even have to scoff at the reaction, but his empty eyes threatened to break Thor’s heart. “We’re going to get you home.”

“It’s not my -“

“Yes, it is. I don’t know why Heimdall isn’t responding but -“

“Probably because he doesn’t want the monster to return.”

“ _You’re not a monster_!” yelled Thor. A brief pause as he looked into Loki’s eyes, grey and watery in the dimming light.

“You do it. You kill me,” said Loki suddenly, sounding ever more crazed even as his expression turned imploring. “You want to extend my humiliation? To see me scream for mercy? If you ever cared for all the years you knew me, give me a swift death.”

“No.”

Loki slumped. “So you truly do not care for me.”

“No, that’s the opposite of -“ He broke off, breathing heavily. He did not know how to continue, did not know what to do. They needed to get back to Asgard, but how if Heimdall refused to respond? What was going on? And he had to contend with these mortals who stood around in shock, the scarred man leaning against one of the women and the older man hovering close to Jane.

For her part, Jane’s eyes were wide but after clearing her throat, she broke the heavy silence that had fallen on the strange group. “What is that thing?” she asked, pointing at the casket that peaked out from the satchel.

The question was directed at Thor, but it was Loki who answered. “The Casket of Ancient Winters,” he said in a disconcertingly hollow voice. “Jotunheim’s greatest treasure. Clearly its magic is strong enough to reveal the truth of my heritage. Funny really: I suppose we were both relics of Odin.”

“Don’t say that,” said Thor instantly.

“Why? Is it any less than the truth?”

“Yes, it is. Less than the truth.”

Loki gave him a withering look before averting his gaze and opting to focus on the floor.

What should he do?

He had done this so badly. He had failed his brother so decisively. How had he thought Loki would take it? Not like this… Definitely not like this. But clearly he had suspected… Why take the handcuffs? How was Loki meant to take _that_ , a sign if ever there was one of mistrust? What had Thor been thinking? That Loki would attack him, perhaps, in his rage… Or even the mortals, maybe even that. But not this. Not himself. Not -

“I can’t do this,” muttered the brunette standing alone to Jane, disrupting his chaotic thoughts. “I need to get out.”

Jane looked at her with thinly-veiled frustration but then the dark-skinned woman caught her eye, who jerked her head a little in the direction of the man with the scarred face. Thor wasn’t sure but he got the sense the man was not well. Jane bit her lip. “Maybe you guys should go to the diner,” she said, her gaze resting on the older man. “Can you go with Darcy and Aaron?”

“I’m not leaving you here -“ the older man started. Jane murmured something to him and he frowned.

“It’s fine,” said the dark-skinned woman. “I’ll stay here with Doctor Foster.” The scarred man - Aaron? - looked like he was about to protest but she cut him off too. “I need a bit of time to think,” she said, voice gentle. “Get some fresh air, eat something, take your time. We’re safe here… Or certainly, as safe as we’d be with you here.”

The man looked a little insulted at that, but gratefulness overtook him as it did the other two. They muttered quick farewells before heading out, leaving behind the two brothers and the two mortal women.

Silence fell again as they stayed packed closely together in the corner of the room, darkness coming at ever a greater speed and their shadows growing longer with it. Thor stood with his back against the window and all he could see was walls pressing in and his brother’s sunken face.

“Thor,” said Jane, getting his attention even as her voice rung oddly in the stillness. “Can I get you anything?”

Thor shook his head.

“Do you know why you can’t get back to… to Asgard?”

Another shake. “I don’t understand why he hasn’t answered yet,” he said flatly. He blinked repeatedly, trying to keep his eyes open in the fading light. He struggled to remember the last time he had slept but wanted to stay focused on his brother. Loki, who was now completely still, seemingly unwilling to move even a muscle as he stared down at the floor. Unresponsive and uncaring. Unreachable to Thor.

“Do you think you maybe need a bit of fresh air too?”

Thor roused himself and summoned a weak smile aimed at reassuring the woman. “I’m fine.”

“Seriously, you need to rest,” said Jane. “You don’t know when your guy on the other end will reply.”

“I need to be here for Loki.”

“We can go just outside. You can’t help him if you drive yourself crazy.”

Thor shook his head a third time and Jane looked to Sahar.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sahar said, sounding distinctly unenthusiastic at the prospect. “Call you if anything happens.”

She looked pretty dubious and yet Thor was just about weary enough to acquiesce.

“Just for a little bit,” said Jane, the reassurance crumbling his last bit of resistance.

“Thank you,” he said honestly, relishing the thought that for a few short moments he could relinquish all this responsibility, and allowed Jane to lead him outside. She lowered herself a little awkwardly to sit on the stone step, motioning for Thor to do the same. He did, letting Mjølnir drop and it impacted the ground with a sharp crack. Jane stared at it before shaking herself.

“How are you holding up?”

“My brother attempted to stab himself,” said Thor, surprised at how hollow his own voice sounded. He stared out at the empty, open space barely lit by a fading sky, so much more spacious than the terrible room they had just left.

“Stupid question, fair enough,” said Jane. “But you stopped him. That matters.”

“I keep failing him,” he said, words tumbling out he had little control over. He looked at this mortal woman, her kind brown eyes considering him with worry even as her brow creased with permanent inquisitiveness. “Why is he with you?”

The woman hesitated. “It’s a long story. My intern kind of hit him with a car.”

“A car?”

“It’s… eh… like a box we use to get places. We hit him by accident,” said Jane, sounding a little defensive.

Thor nodded slowly. “And you took care of him?”

“Eh… Well, we brought him to hospital and then I asked him whether he wanted to come with us. And then he ended up sleeping at our place but he got into a… dispute with SHIELD… Like I said, it’s a long story.”

“Still, you have my gratitude.”

Jane smiled and rubbed her knees absent-mindedly. “What will happen to him back on Asgard?” she asked all of a sudden as Thor stared out into the vast emptiness.

“I don’t know.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Sahar had drawn up a chair to what she must imagine to be a safe distance from Loki. He was tempted to tell her that she was too close. Continuing to stare at the floor, he tried to ignore everything around him.

“Do you want to talk?”

It took him a while to even comprehend the question and it managed to break him out of his revery. It was so… unexpected. He could not help something between a frown and a scowl plastering itself on his face.

“How can you even stand to be in the same room as me, let alone talk with me? Now that you know what I am?”

Sahar regarded him with raised eyebrows and answered after only a slight pause. “So you turn blue. That clearly means a lot to you, but I wasn’t raised with Asgardian prejudices. It’s pretty meaningless to me, to be honest.”

“Midgardians have forgotten. The frost giants are monsters -“

“Who told you that?” asked Sahar, then raised her hands in a placating gesture. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just want to help you, in any way I can.”

Loki didn’t think anyone had ever _apologised_ for interrupting _him_. He wanted to be dismissive but it was a little hard with all this confusion clogging his mind. “Everyone on Asgard knows…” He frowned at Sahar but she sat there silently, clearly waiting for him to continue. “You don’t have to lie. Your friends were practically fleeing from here.”

“I think _friends_ is maybe putting it a bit strongly… Save Aaron, I’ve known them for like less than a day,” said Sahar absent-mindedly. She sighed. “You’re wrong, you know. They don’t think you’re a monster. They like you, as do I.”

Loki gave her a sceptical look.

“Don’t you think it’s more likely they were disturbed by you trying to stab yourself?” She said it as if it were obvious. It did look as if she were trying to suppress an expression of pity, rather than the disgust he would have expected.

“Why would that be disturbing?”

Sahar regarded him incredulously before looking away, slowly shaking her head and muttering something in a different Midgardian language he could not quite pick up. “Basic empathy, I imagine,” she said, meeting Loki’s gaze again. “I don’t know where you came from, or anything about your species… But between landing on Earth in what I guess were less-than-ideal circumstances, some idiots almost running you over, being tasered - twice - and interrogated, now this crap with your brother… Well, it’s been a hell of a few days, hasn’t it?”

“Why would you care?”

“I _care_ because I wouldn’t want that on anyone. But you seem… I don’t know if nice is the right word, but you do strike me as decent enough. You don’t know this world or its people, but trying to get Doctor Foster’s stuff back was a good thing to do, even if I’m not entirely convinced by your methods.”

Loki looked at her with a blank face. She sighed again and her expression was one Loki did not understand but was unnerved by.

“I’m probably not doing this well but… I don’t know what’s going on with Thor or your people and I won’t pretend to understand what you’re going through. But I’ve seen people in dire circumstances before and I know sometimes even a stranger’s support can be helpful. And even though we barely know each other, I want you to know you’re not alone. There are people on Earth who have your back.”

Loki moved his hands, making the handcuffs jangle. “Have my hands behind my back, more like.”

Sahar responded with a thin, unsuspecting smile. “Fair enough. And trust me, I’m not entirely convinced by the ethics of the letting you go back with Thor either. I just have to trust he has your best interests at heart.”

“Or you could let me go.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that I wouldn’t like to. But I have no guarantee you wouldn’t… try again.”

“What if I promise I won’t?”

Again the thin smile. “If it makes you feel any better, I wouldn’t know how to release those handcuffs even if I decided to.”

“Fair enough,” he said, echoing her words.

“But in the mean time, while we wait, if there’s _anything_ you want to talk about…” She spread her hands. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.”

Loki contemplated her in silence before sighing with a tinge of regret. “This isn’t something I imagined I would ever say to a mortal, but I can’t help but wish we had met under different circumstances.”

“Eh… I’ll just go ahead and take that as a compliment,” said Sahar rather uncertainly. She paused, searching for more words. “Do you know what will happen when you go back to Asgard?”

Loki leaned forward just a little, the corners of his mouth bending up. “Oh, what makes you think I’ll be going back to Asgard?”

A pause.

Sahar was regarding him with an impressively expressionless face in a way that made Loki suspect she was thinking very fast indeed. “Thor seems to think so,” she said eventually.

“Yes, well he was always prone to underestimate me. Him and everyone else.”

Sahar stood up slowly, eyes fixed on Loki. “How exactly do you want to get far with your hands tied up?”

Loki smiled at her, teeth flashing. “Do you really think I didn’t learn to evade my people’s handcuffs long ago?”

She opened her mouth and _almost_ managed to get out a scream.

Loki was over there in less than a second, handcuffs nowhere to be seen, and clamped his hand over her mouth as she wriggled desperately in his grasp. “I _am_ sorry,” he breathed into her ear as he pushed her back and pinned her against the wall. She kicked him repeatedly, strong enough that it actually hurt a bit, but he raised his other hand and pressed it firmly onto her forehead. A few seconds passed as she stared wild-eyed at him, her mouth and assorted spittle resisting his grip with unrelenting ferocity, then finally she succumbed, her eyes closing and body slumping against him. She hadn’t given him a half bad struggle, in all fairness. He gathered her into his arms and lowered her gently to the floor.

It was time to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked on this fic a lot less than I planned to today but I still managed to post this so... that's good? Really didn't want to stay on the downer of last chapter for long. Next bit should be up pretty quickly too.  
> Sorry for all the angst, thanks for the comments and please do continue to leave them here!


	13. 7.1

Sahar was crumpled in the armchair, sipping at water, while Aaron hovered over her.

“He’s _gone_?” repeated Darcy. She turned to Jane, who was frowning as she stared at the cupboard. "What is it?”

“Oh, nothing important,” said Jane. “Just one of the glasses is missing.”

“Is that really important right now?”

“I said it was nothing important. _You_ asked.”

“How could you let him get away?” said Erik to Thor, ignoring them as his anger barely covering the edge of fear.

“I was only outside for a few minutes,” said Thor. The words were defensive, and yet Darcy could see how terrified he was. “I have to go. He can’t have gotten far.”

“Wait,” said Sahar before groaning and muttering something under her breath with a dark expression. “You can’t just run off. He seems like the kind of guy who seems pretty adept at hiding himself when he wants to. We have to think.”

“Where could he have gone?” asked Jane, mostly to Thor. “Do you think he’ll -“

She trailed off, not quite able to finish the sentence. Darcy felt sick with the memory of what they had seen. She wished she could somehow erase it from her mind but she could not.

“I don’t know,” said Thor miserably.

“And… he didn’t take that casket thing?” asked Jane.

Thor shook his head. “It’s still here.”

“You were both outside when he left?” asked Erik, gesturing at Thor and Jane. The latter nodded. “So” - he continued, looking at Sahar - “you were with him?”

“Before he knocked me out, yeah.”

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing! Well, we talked. I tried to, you know, reach out.”

“Reach out?” asked Selvig incredulously.

“Yeah,” said Sahar, a note of anger entering her voice. “I’m so very sorry for trying to show compassion to someone who had just attempted suicide. What could I have been thinking?”

Aaron glared at Selvig. “Don’t you dare blame Sahar for this.”

“I need to talk to Heimdall,” said Thor, thoughts clearly far away.

“Who?”

“Asgard’s gatekeeper.” He closed his eyes, ignoring the humans’ queries. “Heimdall. Hear me.”

The others looked at each other in confusion. When they tried to talk to him, he simply ignored them, eyes remaining shut.

“So that’s a thing,” said Sahar. “Cool.”

They all stared at Thor in bewildered silence, unsure of what to do next.

* * *

Heimdall allowed Thor to access his eyes and summoned him to the Observatory as an apparition.

“Where have you been?” the king asked, sounding quite furious.

“I was consulting with your mother. The delay is… inexcusable, I know.”

“As much as I can’t believe I’m saying this, it isn’t his fault,” said Frigga, at that point arriving in the Observatory. Thor spun around in surprise. She held out her hands in a placating gesture. “I know we have much to discuss, my son. But first tell me, where is Loki?”

“I don’t know,” said Thor, voice cracking. “He took off.”

“What?” exclaimed Frigga. She turned to Heimdall. “Where is he?”

“I cannot see him,” said the watcher.

Frigga’s eyes widened and she took several steps towards the gatekeeper, hands clenching into fists. “What?” she repeated.

“He has hidden himself from my sight. More completely than ever before.”

“Do you think he -“ Thor swallowed, hard, not able to finish the sentence.

Heimdall hesitated, then shook his head as much as his large helmet allowed. “I still sense something. Not much, but there’s something. I am certain of it.”

Thor relaxed just a little. “Then he is out there. And I must find him.”

“I should help you,” said Frigga.

Heimdall’s frown grew more pronounced. “No. Asgard still needs its queen.”

Frigga rounded on him angrily. “You are the _last_ person-“

“He’s right, Mother,” said Thor and when he saw Frigga was going to argue, he pressed on. “We don’t have time for this. I will do everything to return Loki to us, I swear. Just… Be ready at the Observatory, Heimdall.”

The gatekeeper’s heart sagged with regret. “Yes, my king.”

He released Thor.

* * *

Thor’s eyes opened and Darcy emitted an involuntary yelp that couldn’t help but make Aaron smile a little. At the sound, Jane and Erik stopped the hurried conversation they had started and they all turned back to the apparent god of thunder.

“Where did you go?” asked Darcy. “Like… your mind.”

“I conferred with Asgard’s gatekeeper.” Upon seeing their bemused expressions, he added: “He can see and hear everything.”

“So he can find Loki?” asked Jane excitedly.

Thor shook his head, much to their disappointment. “No. Loki can… hide himself.”

“Of course he can,” muttered Aaron. Then, louder: “We have to tell SHIELD.”

“What?” exclaimed Darcy.

“No,” said Jane at the same time.

For good measure, Erik laughed shrilly.

Thor was frowning. “SHIELD?”

“An Earth government agency,” said Sahar, who had stood up and started pacing even though she still looked a bit unstable.

“Very shady,” added Darcy. “Not the good guys.”

“They held your brother,” said Jane.

Aaron had to suppress a groan. That didn’t make this any easier.

“Look, if Loki is going… who knows where… He’s unstable right now. You know it’s true,” Aaron added when Thor looked like he was about to interject. “That means people are in danger. If there’s any chance SHIELD can help us stop anyone from getting hurt, we have to tell them.”

Sahar leaned over to him and with a little gesture on her part, he let her mutter into his ear. “I agree with you in principle, but you do know _Loki’s_ well-being won’t be top on their list of priorities?”

Aaron gave her a grim look and she nodded, fists clenched.

“Just to make sure we’re both on the same page.”

“What are you two whispering about?” asked Selvig, sounding very tired.

“Nothing,” replied Sahar smoothly. “I agree with Aaron. We need their resources.”

“You can trust them?” asked Thor.

“I can trust my sister,” said Aaron, not entirely sure if it was true but hoping it would convince the alien. “She works for SHIELD. I can call her.”

The words instantly softened Thor’s expression and he looked almost enthusiastic at the prospect. “Then call your sister,” he said, “and hopefully together, we can find Loki.”

“And then what?” muttered Sahar so quietly Aaron doubted anyone except he could hear the question. But she didn’t object when he reached for his phone.

“This is a terrible idea,” said Selvig. To Aaron’s faint surprise, Darcy shot him a nasty look, but he couldn’t really concentrate on that. His heart was pounding painfully and his hands shook a little. With everything going on, he could not believe he was this nervous about calling his sister. But apparently, his body had decided that he needed to go into full on terror mode. There was no point putting this off any longer. With the others watching him, he called his sister.

* * *

Once Maria arrived at the flat where the scientists had taken up residence, they got her and Coulson up to speed as quickly as they could. The longer they spoke, the more tired she felt. It was a confused, complicated testimonial and she was pretty sure they had left out some key details. It certainly didn’t make much sense to her. Constantly, Aaron threw her glances as if expecting her to explode at him. Well, he would have to be patient for that.

When they finished, she was frozen for a few moments. Rarely had she felt more out of her depth. This situation was spinning ever further out of control and a small selfish part of her was thinking about how she was confirming every criticism that had been made of her appointment. Unexperienced. Overly emotional. Compromised.

“Commander?” came Coulson’s question, jerking her back into the real world. The crease of his forehead betrayed real worry, of the kind the man was usually so effective at suppressing. It didn’t make her feel much better. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”

Maria nodded. Leaving the civilians and the alien standing there, they walked a few steps away.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I think we need to find Loki. And fast.”

“Didn’t we have eyes on this building?” she asked. “How did anyone even get away without us knowing?”

“Magic, presumably,” said Coulson and even just the word caused a wave of fatigue to crash into Maria. “I can check with Barton if he saw anything, if you want.”

“He would have reported it,” said Maria. “But we need to get every unit in this damn town on the lookout for him. Surely he can’t have gotten far.”

“Unless he can teleport.”

Maria shuddered. “Surely he would have done that before now, wouldn’t he?”

“Maybe he didn’t want to piss off his people?” said Coulson. “We really don’t know what rules we’re dealing with.”

She nodded and was about to go back and ask Thor more questions when her phone buzzed. When she saw who was calling, she couldn’t help but groan.

Coulson patted her on the back with sympathy and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before answering the call.

“This is Hill.”

“And this is your confused boss. I hear you’ve been discovering the delights of the New Mexican climate?”

Maria grimaced. “Sir, I can explain…”

“I’m listening.”

“We have a missing alien who appears to be in a mentally unstable state. We’re currently trying to locate him with the help of another alien, his brother… Thor. The Norse god of thunder.”

A pause. “And how exactly do you intend on finding your missing alien?”

“We’re still… figuring that bit out, sir,” said Maria, wincing.

“And at what point did you decide your presence was needed down there?”

“When my brother decided to hijack a jet and befriend the civilian scientists the alien has been in contact with,” said Maria and she could almost smell the smoke of what had been her career going up in glorious flame.

“You need to find that alien, agent. And fast.”

“Yes, sir,” said Maria, knowing the recriminations would come later.

“Any resources you need, just ask. This is our number one priority.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it. Keep me updated. And Hill…”

Another pause. “Yes?”

“Don’t screw this up.”

Fury hung up.

* * *

It was odd, being surrounded by all the familiar SHIELD tech once more. The bustle of activity around him was more frantic as ever, but Aaron wasn’t a part of it anymore. It was almost - almost - as if he were in enemy territory.

“Do you have _any_ clue that could help us figure out where he went?” the agent who had introduced himself as Coulson asked Thor for what felt like the hundredth time.

Thor shook his head. “He’s smart. Even on an unfamiliar world… he could get far. He’s also considerably better rested than me.”

“He seemed pretty drained to me,” said Darcy.

Aaron agreed with this assessment, but it seemed to surprise Thor whose frown grew a little more pronounced.

“Well I sure hope he’s been getting enough sleep,” said Maria in as dry a tone as the desert they were in. Her gaze was firmly planted on a monitor with a lot of fast changing text on it Aaron could not read from his position. “We’re trying to find a facial match from security footage. It would help if you could actually be sure he can’t teleport.”

“He can’t,” said Thor. “But he has a tendency of finding ways to do things he shouldn’t be able to do.”

Maria pressed her lips even tighter together in a familiar mix of nerves and exasperation.

“So, you’re just going through all this security footage?” asked Darcy nonchalantly, eyeing one of the screens. “I’m gonna assume you don’t have a warrant for this.”

“I think you had better consider staying silent for duration of this operation, Miss Lewis,” said Maria, voice brittle.

“Don’t take that tone with her,” said Aaron.

He was bristling with aggression but when her eyes landed on him, flashing dangerously, he cooled off quickly. “The same goes for you,” she said. “Unless you have any ideas as to where he might have gone.”

She’d been doing pretty well to hide her fury up until that point. That didn’t mean it wasn’t there. He tried to distract himself from the approaching family drama by replaying his conversation with Loki in his mind, wondering whether the alien had given him any hint as to his intentions.

Oh.

Aaron groaned and looked down, the heavy realisation a deadweight pressing against his neck. Maria’s head instantly snapped around.

“What?”

“Eh… I think I might know where he is.”

Sahar turned with curious expression to see Aaron’s guilt-filled face. It took her a few seconds to connect the dots but when she did, she winced. “Oh crap.”

“What is it?” asked Maria, temper getting close to flaring again.

“So you remember when we borrowed that jet?”

There was a pause. Maria breathed in slowly with an expression that looked like she were trying to remind herself that throttling her brother would not be productive use of her time at the present moment.

“How did he know?” asked Coulson, sounding pretty angry himself.

“We - I - chatted to him about the jet,” said Aaron. “Showed it to him on Google Maps… Talked to him about how human technology worked…” He was looking at Sahar with an expression of utter shame. “You were right to be suspicious. Oh god, I was a moron.”

“Understatement,” muttered Coulson. He turned to Maria. “This is good news. It’s one of ours, right? So we know where he’s headed. We can see who’s closest, follow him.”

“So he took your vehicle?” asked Thor. It was a small mercy that he did not look angry rather but understanding.

“He just… It felt so natural, telling him.”

“Loki is very good at getting people to tell him what he wants to know,” said Thor grimly, and Aaron felt even more of a fool.

“Get the intel on where the jet is,” said Maria to Coulson, then flinched almost as if she didn’t feel like she could give the order. It was the one thing that managed to make Aaron’s guilt burn stronger still. But Coulson nodded immediately and walked away, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket.

* * *

“I should follow him.”

“We need one royal left in Asgard.”

Just the latest round of an ever repeating argument. Frigga had _not_ returned to the palace as would be sensible, instead choosing to harass Heimdall with a never ending series of questions he could not answer and complaints he was not inclined to. Weariness was creeping up on him at ever faster a pace - watching was not meant to be accompanied by constant chatter and the absence of any sort of trance meant that sleep deprivation would sooner or later become a problem. Yet it was hardly wise to instruct the queen to leave him alone, considering how she - with some justification, it had to be said - held him responsible for the current unfolding disaster.

“Is Thor coping with the revelation?” asked Frigga unexpectedly, jerking Heimdall out of his semi-revery. “He seemed to harbour no ill feelings towards Loki, but…”

Heimdall hesitated. It was something he had been wondering about himself, and despite the amount of time he had recently spent observing the young king, it was not a question he had an easy answer to. Probably, he suspected, because there wasn’t one. “As well as can be expected.”

Frigga’s expression turned scathing. “Stop evading the question, gatekeeper.”

“What do you wish me to say? He is deeply shaken, as is to be expected. Yet he acts with determination to save his brother, and he has certainly not forgotten his love for Loki.” As Heimdall had feared he might, he declined to add. “In truth, I don’t think he has quite absorbed the full implications of the truth. It is one thing for Loki to not be his blood brother, it is quite another for him to be a frost giant. You’re well aware, of course, that Thor has never had particularly warm feelings towards the jötunnar.”

“Regrettably so,” said Frigga through gritted teeth, and to her credit Heimdall knew that she had always fought against the negative portrayals of Jotunheim so common in Asgard. But what was one to do when some of the greatest palace murals were of the glorious defeat of savage frost giants?

His eyes noticed that Sif was speedily approaching, but continued before she got there.

“Mostly, I imagine he has repressed that part for now, as he tries to deal with bringing Loki home. Thor is a man of action, a warrior, and it may be easier for him while he has a clear task to fulfil.”

“And after that?”

“I know not.”

Now the sound of Sif’s approach had become audible and Frigga turned towards the entrance, where Sif dismounted gracefully and entered the Observatory, her gaze sweeping the entire area with evident concentration. She noted Frigga with a curtsy if with a bemused expression that clearly wondered what the queen was doing chatting with the gatekeeper, especially with no guards, maids or other attendants in the vicinity, but then turned to Heimdall.

“Where is Thor?” she asked.

“He’s on Midgard,” said Frigga.

“He’s - what?” Sif exclaimed. “Thor is king! What is he doing playing with mortals? There’s only so long I can make excuses for the absence of the royal family!”

“And you have my gratitude,” said Frigga. “As should you have Thor’s, and indeed all of Asgard’s. There is an urgent matter he has to take of, but soon he will return to Asgard.”

“That urgent matter would be Loki?” Sif’s brow knitted itself together ever more tightly. “I have every understanding for the… difficulties your family is currently going through, but Asgard needs its king.”

“Who will soon return to us,” said Frigga tersely.

Heimdall was quietly impressed by Sif’s fiery spirit as she stared at the queen with barely-veiled indignation.

“What am I to tell the court?” she asked.

“Nothing, for now. It is not necessary to share Thor’s whereabouts, or the reason for his absence. Sometimes discretion is necessary, Lady Sif.”

“I understand, but -“

“This isn’t under discussion.” The steel in her voice was clear, and was just enough to get Sif to back off.

“Could I at least request that you return to the palace?” asked Sif with an edge of desperation creeping into her voice. Of course, she would have no idea why exactly the queen was spending so much time in the Observatory. “It might be easier to keep the calm if one royal could be seen active in the palace.”

Frigga hesitated, then gave Sif a curt nod. “I will accompany you back.” To Heimdall, “Inform me immediately if anything else occurs.”

* * *

Maria was quickly calling orders in a way that made her feel a lot more in command of the situation than she had for quite some time. “And Agent Sitwell will stay here with a small team in case something else dramatic happens,” she finished, now back where Thor and the assembled civilians were waiting. She addressed him. “You’re up. We’re taking a jet and a few agents,” she said, neglecting to mention the other agents who would be converging on whatever location they ended up. “We can’t intercept it because the jet’s in stealth mode,” she continued, not even deigning to glare at her brother, “so it’s just approximate location, I’m afraid.”

“What about us?” asked Jane.

“You’re staying here under supervision,” said Maria frostily.

“You can’t be serious,” exclaimed Aaron, fists clenching and taking a half-step forwards.

“Completely,” said Maria. “This is a sensitive operation and you are _not_ messing this up any more. You can be assured that you’ll be properly debriefed when all of this is over.”

“We’re a part of this whether you like it or not!”

Maria snorted. “You can count yourself lucky that I haven’t arrested you yet. Not that I’m saying I won’t. Do you know what the word ’treason’ means, little brother?”

“We’ve talked to Loki! We know him a lot better than you do. Plus we’ve studied the science involved with his coming to Earth. There’s a million reasons why we _could_ be useful, you’re just too stubborn to even consider them,” said Aaron, getting steadily angrier.

“And a million reasons why you might make even greater nuisances of yourselves. We don’t have time for this, so how about you just shut up and let the adults handle this?”

There was something extremely satisfying about the look of fury on Aaron’s face.

But now the alien felt like he had to contribute to the conversation. “They treated my brother more kindly than you did,” said Thor.

“Your brother has currently gone AWOL after attacking more than a dozen humans since coming here about - what, less than a week ago? - so maybe you shouldn’t expect too much kindness.”

Thor’s eyes narrowed and Maria couldn’t help but think she probably shouldn’t have said that. “I am grateful to you for aiding my attempts to locate Loki, but he is still my brother. I would suggest you take care of how you speak of him. As for these mortals, they quite rightly point out that they are part of this mess. If they wish to come, they should do so.”

Maria’s frustration was getting close to boiling over. They were wasting time and now a god wanted to engage in petty arguments as to whether to include her idiotic brother?

“Aaron does have a point, Maria,” said Sahar, but that was as far as she got.

“Oh you lost first-name privileges, Miss Hajj,” snapped Maria.

Sahar’s face was set in determination and if she was hurt, she did not show it. “I get that you’re angry and we did help screw this up. But that doesn’t change the fact that we have no idea what he’s planning and that he could cause a lot of damage. The last time SHIELD descended on him, he did not react well. Same with” - she hesitated, looking at the god - “no offence, but with you, Thor. The only people he hasn’t reacted to in a hostile way since coming to this world, as far as I can tell, is us,” she said, gesturing. “Okay, so he did knock me out and he did steal from Aaron. But seems to me you should take each resource you have available, no?”

Coulson turned to Maria. “You know, I hate to admit it but she does have a point.”

“You want to take five civilians with us on a merry trip across the world?”

“Civilian?” said Aaron.

She rounded on him. “Yes, civilian. You’re fired. For real.”

For once, no aggressive comeback.

“We’ll have more than enough agents backing us up,” said Coulson. “And we can make sure they’re… contained, this time.”

Maria saw that several of the civilians bristled at that, but she did not care. “Fine. As long as they stay out of the way,” she said and stalked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm this is rather late... Hopefully the next one will be here soon.  
> Please do keep leaving comments! They're an excellent motivator


	14. 7.2

They boarded the jet. Barton was at the front and gave her a nod, clearly itching to go. His gaze flickered over to Aaron and Sahar.

“I was wondering when I’d see you two again.”

Aaron shifted uncomfortably, while Maria realised she’d forgotten that they knew each other.

“Hey, Agent Barton,” said Sahar with a little wave.

Barton gave her a lopsided grin and when the others had boarded, started the engines with a few confident flicks. “How are you liking America?”

“Bit sandier than I expected.”

“Enough small talk,” said Maria irritably. She gestured towards the back of the jet, where two armed agents were sitting. “You five, back there. Now.”

Aaron scowled but did as she said, the others following suit. Thor hesitated, then he too headed back as Barton’s eyes tracked him before turning back to the task of starting the jet.

“This is turning into one hell of a road trip,” he said as the jet lifted into the air, the humming of the engines filling the space.

“Never a boring day,” said Coulson.

“So how exactly did Loki slip out without you seeing him?” asked Maria, folding her arms.

“Magic,” said Barton simply.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Sure, that must have been it,” she muttered. To Coulson, “Bet you wish you’d stayed on Stark duty now, huh?”

“Oh no,” said Coulson, eyes twinkling. “This is far more interesting.”

He tapped her shoulder and pointed in Thor’s direction. The alien had taken a seat next to the two other agents, who were giving the hulking man plenty of space, almost on each other’s laps as a result. For his part, Thor’s expression could best be described as… well, _forlorn_.

“He looks like he might need a pep talk,” said Coulson, nodding his head in Thor’s direction.

“He’s a god.”

“Seems like gods get depressed too.”

“You being serious?”

Coulson shrugged. “The more we know the better, right?”

Maria suppressed a groan but walked over to Thor and sat down next to him, more than a little uncomfortable but trying to summon every bit of social acumen she possessed. Coulson probably expected them to bond over their messed up sibling relationships or something. Great. This was just great. “So,” she said, wondering whether there was any protocol for this sort of thing, “how are you holding up?”

Thor looked like he was trying his best to put on a brave face. “Better once I am reunited with my brother.”

Maria couldn’t help it - she felt a little sorry for this god or… whatever he was. After briefly hesitating, she reached out and patted him on the shoulder. Considering he was still wearing his heavy armour, she was basically just touching thick metal as well as a bit of a surprisingly soft red cape.

“Siblings can be tough,” she said. “Trust me, I know.”

Thor made a weird stifled noise that sounded a little like a snort. “You haven’t yet reconciled with your brother?”

Maria wasn’t really sure she wanted to have this conversation with Thor. No, that was wrong: she _definitely_ didn’t want to have this conversation with Thor. All the things she did for her job…

At least they were talking quietly enough that the words shouldn’t carry over to her brother, who was looking quite relaxed and leaning back with his eyes closed. Though the agents next to them would have to work quite hard to avoid overhearing.

“He betrayed my trust,” she said eventually, looking down at her hands.

“I know what that’s like,” he said.

“You told him something about his parents, right? That you’re not actually related?”

“Yes.” Thor’s frown deepened as he stared at blank space. “I was so worried about him anyway… To suddenly find out he is not my blood brother…”

“Does it matter?”

“I don’t know.”

“Aaron’s only my brother on our father’s side,” said Maria. Thor’s eyes met hers and the slight desperation in them compelled her to go on. “Not long after I was born, my mother took off. My father ended up remarrying.”

“Is your brother much younger than you?”

“He’s four years younger,” said Maria, a little surprised by his interest. He _must_ be desperate. “For humans, that’s a decent amount… but not that much,” she added as a clarification. “Even though we didn’t share a mother, he was always closest to me. Years of experiences, they’re way more important than any blood connection.”

Thor shifted in his seat and fidgeted with his hands. “If it were only that…” He didn’t expand on what he meant, but he did add, “I just wanted to bring him home. But it seems as if he does not want that.”

“You can’t blame him for being shocked. Not that I wouldn’t have preferred for him not to run off…” She sighed and talked just a little bit quieter, to be on the safe side. “They’ll always make us worry. I wanted to protect Aaron from the world and there was a time I thought I could. But now…”

“Are you still angry at him?”

“Trust me, I’m furious. And disappointed. And -“ Maria averted her eyes, finding a convenient spot in the distance to focus on and blinked several times. “Doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop caring about him.”

Thor nodded. “Thank you,” he said, earning him a surprised look from Maria. “For helping me find him. For your kindness.”

“Just doing my job,” said Maria. She could not help but think about what would happen if Loki posed an active threat to humans. It wasn’t a fun call to have to make, but right there as she pretended to be an understanding, fellow-suffering older sibling, she knew that if it came to it she wouldn’t hesitate to order Loki’s death. Or do it herself.

* * *

 

Aaron jerked awake, noting in shock that he had actually managed to doze off. Probably understandable, considering the amount of sleep he had gotten the past few days. He had never had the time to get over his first jet lag properly, now they were flying again. No wonder his biological clock was seriously out of whack.

That didn’t stop Sahar from looking alert. She never seemed to need much sleep to function properly, Aaron noted with a touch of jealousy. She smiled at him and a little embarrassment ran through him at his rest.

He realised he had lightly elbowed the person on his other side when waking up and turned his head. It was Darcy, who was regarding him in an amused manner.

“Woken up, have you?”

“Sorry,” muttered Aaron, flushing slightly.

“Don’t worry about it.”

He looked around. His sister was at the front with Barton and Coulson. Jane had moved over to sit next to Thor with her notebook open on her lap, talking quietly with the god.

“You haven’t missed much,” said Sahar, tone low, and he turned again to her. She might be alert, but she certainly looked tired.

“You all right?”

“Considering the situation, I think I’m holding up pretty well.”

Aaron winced, the ever familiar guilt tugging at his insides once more. “I am really sorry about all this,” he muttered, vaguely gesturing at their surroundings.

Sahar regarded the armed agents they were sitting opposite of balefully. “Not exactly what I had in mind when you said you’d show me the US.” She sniffed. “Though maybe this is more faithful to the true American experience.”

“What, the guns or the secret government operations?”

She gave him a thin smile. “This is some crazy shit.”

“Welcome to my life.”

At that moment, one of the agents offered them ration packs. They all accepted - Aaron quite eagerly, Sahar after a little hesitation.

A few minutes later, Maria walked over and in an unnecessarily loud voice started talking to Thor. “We need to see if we can figure out where he’s headed.” With only a hint of reluctance, she turned in Aaron’s direction. “You lot had better see if you can contribute.”

They crowded around several screens closer to the front of the jet, the main one showing a map of the world with a blue, slightly jerky circle.

“He’s somewhere in the circle,” said Maria, pointing to it. “According to this, he’s currently flying over Britain. So he’s headed for… where? Somewhere in Britain? Russia?

Sahar frowned at the map and stepped forwards, her index finger tracing a line on the monitory from Puente Antiguo to the circle, continuing onwards. “This might seem a little obvious but… Could he be headed to one of the Scandinavian countries?”

Coulson gave her a pointer. “Draw that line.”

She did, a slightly shaky red line continuing through the circle and into Norway.

Thor focused on the line Sahar had drawn, then a lightbulb seemed to go on in his mind.

“There’s a point around here,” he said, pointing at a spot in southern Norway, “where the Asgardians battled the frost giants a thousand years ago. They entered Midgard there - the walls between the realms are weak. If only I could remember exactly where…”

Coulson was sitting at one of the computers and typing diligently. “Do you know whether there were humans near that battle back then?”

Thor hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. Frost giants were directly attacking mortals under Asgard’s protection. I remember hearing stories of Asgardians sheltering them.”

“Well, an obvious candidate would be Tønsberg,” said Darcy, who had been looking over Coulson’s shoulder and now marked the map close to the coast. “The oldest Norwegian city, apparently. Does that look about right?”

Thor squinted at the spot. “It does. How close is Loki?”

“It won’t take him long. What do you think he’ll do there?”

“I don’t -“ Thor straightened slightly, agitated. “I should go. Make my own way.”

“You have wings?” asked Maria.

“I have my hammer.”

Maria gave him a look like she was trying to figure out whether he was joking or not. “Right. Doesn’t matter - you won’t know where he’s going exactly without us. So you’d better stick with us.”

Thor grimaced.

As the journey went on, the tension grew steadily. Aaron felt little inclination to sleep again, and he didn’t think he could have even if he tried. Most stood, Erik and Jane sat back down and started a whispered conversation. They did look properly stressed out by unfolding events, not that Aaron could blame them. The one thing he had going for him that he wasn’t new to overwhelming situations, and he wasn’t new to fear either.

Aaron wandered over to the window and stared out. All he could see were thick clouds. How far were they away?

The quiet journey continued.

“Why would he be going to Tønsberg?” asked Darcy.

They all turned to her, the weird silence broken, but she was looking at Thor.

“Because of the portal, right?” said Sahar, sounding resigned like her thoughts had already gone down that path.

“Not a portal,” said Thor. “But a way through. There are… cracks in certain places. Where the realms connect more easily to each other.”

“And this particular crack? Where does it… crack to?” asked Darcy.

“The frost giant world, right?” said Sahar.

“Jotunheim,” said Aaron, remembering his Wikipedia research.

Thor looked at him in surprise. “Yes. That… that destination does seem likely.”

“But why?” asked Maria, listening intently. “The last time they were here, you said they attacked, right? They fought a war with your people.”

Thor nodded, looking decidedly miserable.

“Now Loki’s found out that he’s one of them,” said Maria, thinking out loud. “So he makes his way to Jotunheim and… what?”

Clearly Thor had been asking himself the same thing. “I do not know,” he began a little uncertainly, “but I can’t help but wonder…” He stopped. Aaron tried to figure out what he was thinking.

“Whether he wants to join them?” asked Jane from her seat. She was frowning, staring at the floor in concentration. “He’d be their prince, right?”

Thor nodded again.

Something about that didn’t ring quite true with Aaron, but he couldn’t place his finger on what. It sounded like it made sense, but there was _something_ , some little detail that didn’t gel… What was it?

“If that happens, is there anything you can do?” asked Darcy. Thor gave her a confused look so she added, “They _are_ his people. Can you stop him from joining them?”

“Wouldn’t it be well within his rights?” asked Jane, who seemed to understand what Darcy was getting at. She did look a little nervous of Thor’s reaction, though.

“He is still of Asgard,” said Thor tersely. “And thus my responsibility. Besides, Jotunheim and Asgard have long had a fragile peace. Given Loki’s past actions, they could want to use him to break it. In which case, I need to stop them.” His face creased as he looked vaguely disgusted, whether at himself or at Loki he couldn’t begin to guess.

But that sounded even more wrong. Because… What was it?

He got there just after Sahar did.

“No,” she said, jumping in before he had the chance to and speaking quickly, “He didn’t take the casket the frost giants - I mean, the frost giants’ casket. If I wanted to make an allegiance, surely I’d take along their greatest treasure, right?”

Thor’s eyes widened. Apparently this hadn’t occurred to him. “Yes, yes that’s right!” he said, sounding somewhere between eager and relieved. Then his face fell again. “But… why else would he wish to go there?”

They were all silent, each trying to puzzle it out for themselves.

“Maybe he’s curious,” said Darcy eventually. “Wouldn’t you be? I mean, maybe he just wants to find out what they’re like.”

“But why run?” asked Thor.

“It’s like you said,” said Sahar. “You’re not friends with them. Maybe he didn’t think he’d get the chance.”

Could that be the answer? Aaron thought about it, unsure. He had seen Loki’s reaction to the revelation, the madness and desperation in his eyes as he plunged the dagger towards his heart. Somebody in so desperate a mindset… Well, they weren’t in the best position to make smart decisions, or be motivated by simple curiosity. At least, he didn’t _think_ so. With the purpose Loki had enacted his plan, it felt like there had to be some bigger motivation. And probably not a good one, quite possibly self-destructive.

He looked up to find Maria watching him, and he had the slightly uncomfortable sense that she knew exactly what he was thinking. But neither of them said anything and after a moment, they both looked away.

They were flying closer to the ground now. A lot of green, some water, a few scattered houses.

Barton turned his head from the front to call back to them. “His jet’s stopped.”

Coulson pressed a few buttons on a keyboard and one of the screens showed a map with two small marks. “There he is,” he said, pointing at one of them.

“That would be roughly where the crack is,” said Thor. Aaron got the impression he was barely repressing panic. “He may well be gone already. I need to go.”

“Can you use the same path Loki did? Follow him?” asked Maria.

“It’s not that easy. Loki’s world-walking in a rare skill and without his magic it is one I could not begin to imagine attempting.”

“So you can’t follow?”

“Not by myself. But with Heimdall’s help… I need to call him once more, so that he can summon the Bifrost and take me to where he is concealed.” He looked at the humans one by one. “It is now that I must take my leave of you. You have my thanks for your help. Farewell.” He stepped over to the jet doors as the others watched him in silence.

Barton looked at Maria, who nodded. The jet’s doors were unlocked when Thor reached to open them, sliding open to a roar of wind that made their hair flap about them. Thor swung his hammer in a tight circle and then jumped out.

Barton stared at one of the screens as the jet doors closed again. “Damn. He really can fly.”

“What now?” asked Coulson.

“This isn’t SHIELD business anymore,” said Maria. “We’ll land in Tønsberg to monitor the situation, but hopefully Loki will stay off the world.”

“He could be getting himself killed,” said Darcy, the distress seeping into her voice.

“That’s none of my concern.”

“How typically callous,” muttered Aaron.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

* * *

Heimdall answered Thor’s call immediately, letting him once again confer with the gatekeeper once he had landed.

“We think that he has gone to Jotunheim,” said Thor as if Heimdall didn’t already know that.

“I cannot see him there, but a mist is obscuring much of my sight. It is reasonable to conclude that he is indeed there.”

Thor shut his eyes, or rather his apparition did so. “At least we know now. Heimdall, I need you to take me to Jotunheim.”

“Do you really think that wise?”

“I think that I do not much care.”

“Thor… Think. You are not just a brother. You are a king. Your movements matter. Going to Jotunheim could have grievous consequences.”

“I have to go,” said Thor fiercely. He breathed in deeply. “What if Loki were to do something that could harm the peace between Asgard and Jotunheim? He is my responsibility.”

“You have the Casket of Ancient Winters with you.”

“I can hardly leave it on Midgard.”

“Bringing it back to Jotunheim would involve great risk.”

“I'm not about to hand it over freely. Send me there, now.”

Heimdall realised there was little point in delaying. “The mist of Loki’s magic makes it hard for me to focus the Bifrost. You wouldn’t want to accidentally injure the frost giants and start a war, so I’ll have to focus it outside of the magic’s range. Darkness centres around Utgard’s citadel; it is there that you must head.”

“I understand.”

“Then I shall release you now and send you to Jotunheim. May the forefathers be with you, Thor.”

* * *

Thor arrived on Jotunheim, the bright light coalescing around him before disappearing again into nothing. The first thing that struck him was how dark everything was, the barren plains seemingly untouched by a star’s warmth with little light to brighten the realm’s surface. The second thing he noticed was how very cold it was.

The frosty landscape was only vaguely familiar to him as the wind howled in his ears and he repressed a shiver of cold. Was it cold to Loki? Or was this what was comfortable to him?

He wondered whether the frost giants would be able to tell he had brought with him the Casket of Ancient Winters. What if they got it back through his foolishness? A king for not even a week and he was already messing up in the worst ways imaginable. What if he had to choose between the casket and Loki? As a king it should be a tough choice, but of course there was no real question in his heart.

No, this was useless speculation. He had to move, and fast. To Utgard, where Loki’s magic shrouded happenings. To the Jötunn throne. Still unsure of Loki’s intentions, he had to enter this most delicate of situations completely blind. He had been so sure he knew his brother, that they understood each other as deeply as two people could. Now, whenever he thought of Loki he could see only darkness. Only the deep swathes of the inky unknown.

He swung Mjølnir - once, twice, a third, a fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh time - and then raised it in front of him so that it pulled him off the ground. The wind rushed against him ever harsher as the very air tried to hold him back, but his hammer’s might was too great. He felt small crystals of ice hit his face at ever greater intensity and it became harder and harder to see ahead of him. It could not be much further. Could it?

 _What if he wishes to die by their hands_?

He had told Loki. It was his fault.

Part of him wished Loki had at least taken the casket, for that would at least have offered an explanation for his behaviour. And after everything, wouldn’t it be well within Loki’s right to try and reunite with his people, as the mortals had said? What right did Thor have to condemn him? The thought had pained him at first, but the mortals were right about that too… Loki would surely have taken the casket. So what were his intentions? None of this made any sense.

Were those settlements below, hidden in caves below the surface? Thor sped up high over a precarious cliff edge, wishing he had more indication he was headed in the right direction. Utgard’s citadel, Heimdall had said. He had never been, but he had seen enough paintings to recognise it. How much truth in those depictions? How much had Loki’s magic hidden, for him to have to travel so far?

There! The citadel, a grey blot in a greyer sky, reaching out in a manner that reminded Thor of the Observatory on Asgard. It had been nary a day since he had been there last, yet it seemed much longer to him. So much had changed. So much could still change. All he asked for - all he begged the Norns and his forefathers for - was a chance.

The blobs of people became steadily more visible, congregated at the fast approaching base of the citadel. With the wind and the ice and the dark, it was still hard to see but they surrounded two figures. Were they? Yes, there it was. There they were.

He landed with a loud thud only a few feet from the figures as the wind howled just a little bit louder as if to tear Thor away from whatever he was to face.

The scene was like frozen before him, as if the ice of their surroundings had managed to engulf its participants and keep them dead still in an eternal moment. So close that he could now perceive everything once his eyes adjusted to the gloom and tried to feed his weary mind information it was ill-suited to comprehend.

Loki, still in his Aesir form, Jotunheim’s so very pale light making his skin look almost translucent, his black hair falling wildly over eyes that shone bluer than usual, mouth pressed in so thin a line it was as if he had swallowed his lips. A gaunt, thin figure dressed in high-collared Asgardian armour devoid of any ornamentation, looking so young yet with an unmistakeable wariness as he stood before the frost giant king.

His blood father. Yet so much more gigantic than his son, so overwhelming in presence that it was hard to imagine he could have born so slender an offspring. What resemblance was there between the two of them? None Thor could perceive. And even as other frost giants, with their faces looking so cruel and merciless, turned to the young king, those two still looked at each other. Loki below Laufey with his head raised with a shard of that familiar defiance, even haughtiness. And around his right hand came a glimmer of green, another familiar sight in an unfamiliar world. As the air vibrated around them, forcing the beings it surrounded to once again participate in the flow of time, Thor could feel his mouth open in a warning that would never leave in time, watching as a sword materialised in the son’s hand where the father could not yet see.

Laufey’s gaze turned to Thor and that look of surprise was to be his last, now fatally distracted.

And Thor could only watch in shock as Loki plunged his sword in the chest of the king of Jotunheim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, the next two updates are a proper nightmare to edit. So... y'know... comments appreciated.


	15. 8.1

Shouts. Screams. The spray of unfamiliar blood onto his face. Both hands still clutching at the grip of the sword.

He let go as everything seemed to shatter and spin away, nothing quite making sense.

Something impacted him. It was hard but… not hitting him. More like reaching around, pressing… What -

It was Thor - one muscular arm gripping around him and constraining him even as the other held Mjølnir. How in Bor’s name had the idiot managed to follow him even here? What did he intend to do? He had placed himself between Loki and the frost giants - they now charged at them, almost reaching the two before Thor summoned lightning to his hammer. It coursed through Thor’s body and Loki’s who was growing well and truly tired of being electrocuted. Just because this _oaf_ seemed to have forgotten he was holding him… Or maybe he didn’t care? But it managed to deter the frost giants which wasn’t the plan… This wasn’t meant to continue. Why was Thor here? He wasn’t meant to be. _Why does everything keep falling apart_?

“Heimdall! Take us up, now!” shouted Thor, and Loki realised in frustration that his magic was no longer cloaking them. Damn lightning, throwing him off guard.

A moment later came the roaring of the Bifrost all around them as they were engulfed in its rainbow light, transported back to Asgard. Of course, the gatekeeper had chosen now of all times to actually pay attention. Brilliant. Once it stopped and their surroundings rearranged themselves into the familiar sight of the Observatory’s dome, Thor slung Loki to the ground. He lay there on the floor - it felt warm after the chill of Jotunheim - making no attempt to pick himself up immediately.

“Why can’t you just let me die?” said Loki in a half-moan, not really expecting an answer. How desperate was Thor to deny him a clean demise. It wouldn’t do to remember Loki as a hero, apparently. Instead, they would drag him through the mud until his mind collapsed entirely.

A guard dragged him to his feet and cuffed him. This was all getting wearily familiar. Now he was facing his stricken br - Thor, once more.

“Why?” asked Thor, so quiet it was almost a whisper.

Loki did his best to summon up a little more defiance. “I did it for Asgard!” he spat.

“This was not for Asgard’s good!”

“Oh, I’m ever so sorry I didn’t let you claim Laufey’s life,” he said, his voice rife with bitterness. “Can’t let the bastard have any of the glory, can you?”

Even now, Thor rejected him.

What now? What could come now? He remembered his own thoughts, even more true now than when they had first come to his mind. _Every path I choose closes itself off and goes dark_. Every time he thought he had found a way out or a fitting end, something dragged him in another direction again. Getting worse… and worse… and worse. This couldn’t go on - it _couldn’t_.

“How could you start a war with Jotunheim?” asked Thor, his voice thick with a despair that wrenched Loki out of his own mind but only served to hopelessly confuse him. How could _this_ be what was upsetting Thor?

“They’re monsters!”

“No, they’re not,” said Thor, grabbing Loki at the back of his neck and making their foreheads rest against each other. “They’re not. You’re not, Loki.”

“ _You’ve_ said it a million times,” said Loki scathingly. “What’s changed your mind, Thor? How can you be so weak now?”

Tears were pooling in Thor’s eyes but Loki cared not for them. He cared not for this strange reaction, nor for how Loki’s planned redemption, his willingness to give his very life for Asgard, was being rejected out of hand. Asgard did not want him. He could fight as much as he wanted to be accepted, even in death. He never would be.

So be it.

And now Frigga entered and made things just a little bit worse. She considered her barely standing son - no, the frost giant bastard she had raised - with such sadness that it managed to pierce Loki’s defences and give his heart another painful twinge. She was accompanied by yet more guards, and Sif. A proper welcoming party.

“King Laufey is dead,” said Heimdall. Loki had almost forgotten the orange-eyed creep was still there. “Slain by Loki’s hand.”

All in the crowded Observatory had to digest this development, but unsurprisingly it was Frigga who recovered the quickest.

“Jotunheim will be looking to attack,” said Frigga in solemn tones. “We must prepare our defences.”

Thor turned to Sif, who nodded curtly.

“I’m on it.”

She walked off, Warriors Three in tow, leaving Thor to smile gratefully at her back. Loki could not resist rolling his eyes.

“How react the jötunnar?” asked Frigga of Heimdall.

“They are withdrawn to Vafthrudnir’s Hus of Utgard,” the gatekeeper responded. “My sight cannot get past the ancient magic. I assume they are holding a council of war.”

“Your sight really is useless,” said Loki, giving Heimdall an insolent smile.

“Shut up, Loki,” said Thor.

That’s all he had ever done.

Frigga’s gaze rested on Loki again. “We need to get you to the palace.”

The first words the woman he had considered his mother had spoken to him in what felt like forever and they were so… disappointing. He should have died before meeting her again.

She turned again to her son. “Is there any hope of reasoning with the jötunnar?”

“I do not think so. There are few declarations of war as potent as slaying a king.”

“They must know they have no hope of victory. Especially not without the casket.”

“I imagine they are past caring,” said Heimdall.

Thor grimaced. “We would need Odin to prepare for such a war. Without him…”

“Asgard is more than just Odin,” said Frigga, causing a look of surprise to soften the consternation of Thor’s features. “We will prepare an envoy to Jotunheim but ready Asgard’s warriors for what may come. Sif is already taking care of the palace defences and I will trust her capable hands to fulfil her task diligently. As for you, Thor, you must go back to the throne room and hear a council of war of our own. Hopefully, your father will soon return to us but until then, we all have our roles to play.”

“Where…” Thor’s gaze had wandered back to Loki and even though he had only gotten out one word, it was clear enough what he was about to ask. The silence that followed took on a distinctly awkward touch, only made more severe by how long it went on. Especially considering there was a crisis unfolding.

“Am I for the cells?” asked Loki. His mind had slowly been shifting back into action and was assessing ways to get back in control over the situation. Detached from any real emotions, this cold and rational analysis was almost comforting. Not that he was looking for comfort.

When Thor did not answer, Frigga did. “Loki… Do you understand the severity of what you have done?”

“I slew Jotunheim’s king under the evidently mistaken impression that Asgard would be grateful for my actions.”

“And in the process, you destroyed a hard-fought peace.”

“Considering the ease with which I convinced the frost giants to sneak into Odin’s Vault, that peace was hardly worth much.”

“A few outliers -“

Loki laughed. How common the mirthlessness of the sound was becoming. “Jotunheim _hates_ Asgard. Don’t you understand that? They will _always_ be looking for an opportunity to take revenge, unless they are completely crushed.”

“But at what cost?”

“One worth paying.”

Frigga’s stern expression made him feel like a young child. “Do you truly think so?”

He was about to answer honestly before his common sense kicked in and gave him a little jolt. Averting his gaze, his brow furrowed as a hint of remorse entered his expression. “I… don’t know. I thought… I didn’t want Thor to… I thought I would be making Odin proud.”

“By starting a war?”

“By finishing what he had started.”

He felt his mother’s fingers touch his hand and he looked up with wide eyes. She stood so close to him now, radiating compassion and understanding. “It isn’t what he would have wanted. I understand how confusing this must be to you and I _will_ explain, once all of this is over. And he will explain.”

Loki paused, infusing his expression with a touch of yearning and biting his lip as if nervous to continue. “May I see him?” he asked quietly.

Frigga hesitated, looking at Thor.

“Mother… Maybe I was wrong,” said Loki with just a little desperation. “I wanted to prove myself truly one of Asgard.”

Frigga’s face softened a little further. “You never have to prove anything, my son.” She nodded. “You should see him. He is not yet awake, but he is your father after all.”

They prepared the horses, and Loki wondered whether they would really take him to the palace like this, chained like an animal. How shameful. Just another perfect humiliation.

This would not do.

Loki shifted uncomfortably, wincing a little as his skin was chafed by the handcuffs. Frigga noticed.

“Take them off,” she said to a guard. “No son of mine will be led through the city in chains.”

“Is that wise?” asked the guard, then quailed under the frosty look Frigga gave him.

“He does have a point,” muttered Thor, but the guard was already removing the cuffs. He was clenching his hammer tightly and walked close to Loki. The latter resisted the urge to make a snarky comment, not intending to go back in chains just yet.

They made their way towards the palace, where the sleeping Odin was waiting.

* * *

“How long do we wait?” asked Coulson quietly.

Maria stared right ahead, not about to let her uncertainty show on her face. “Better be on the safe side. Let’s say a day.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“Do you think they’ll be back?”

Coulson shook his head. “I have no idea. You?”

Maria couldn’t quite keep a small frown off her face, her fingers digging tightly into her folded arms. “There’s no reason to think they will. But…” She trailed off, not quite sure why she had such a sense of dread.

They stood in silence, but too soon came an annoying voice from behind them.

“Eh… Agent Hill?”

Maria turned to be faced with a bunch of very curious civilians, including Foster who had spoken. “What?”

“What’s going to happen now?”

“We stay here and wait. You don’t get in our way.”

“For how long?” asked Lewis, sounding a little indignant.

“However long we have to.”

“Wait for what?” asked Sahar.

“That doesn’t concern you,” said Maria, fighting a losing battle to keep the irritation out of her voice.

“Just sit down,” said Coulson. “We’ll tell you when there’s an update.”

The civilians did not back off. Foster instead stepped forward, even as Selvig tried to stop her, placing a slightly restraining hand on her arm.

“You have no right to treat us like this!” she said. “This is _your_ mess and all you’ve done -“

“Jane -“

“- is make it worse. _No_ , Erik, this is completely unacceptable. First you confiscate my stuff, then you think you can just act like we’re dirt, now you won’t even tell us what’s happening. You people think you can do whatever you want.” She jutted her chin up as she stared down Maria, nowhere near as silent and not troublesome as she had been for most of the trip.

“Go off, girl,” muttered Lewis, looking faintly impressed.

Maria stepped forward to meet her, mouth a thin slash of anger. She gathered herself before answering. “You still seem to not understand the seriousness of what we’re dealing with. Two worlds could be at the brink of war for all we know. The last time they fought, they used Earth as a battleground. Do you have any inkling of how dangerous the situation you have blundered into could be? Is it really too much to ask that you simply be _quiet_ and _wait_ until we can be sure this problem is contained? Is it absolutely necessary for us to provide entertainment and updates every minute just because you insisted on inserting yourself into a matter that is none of your business?”

The scientist had watched her with a deepening frown as she spoke. But despite her evident annoyance, she was not the one to respond to Maria’s diatribe.

“You made the call to let Loki go with them,” said Aaron. As Maria turned to him, she saw her own steeliness reflected back at her. “That was you _letting_ them get involved, putting people in danger just so _you_ could get what you want.”

There was a tense silence as Lewis, Selvig, and Foster all looked in surprise at Aaron.

“Actually, that was my decision,” said Coulson. He turned to the three civilians who were now staring at him. “I understand you’re angry. And it may at least in part be justified. But we are still dealing with a potentially dangerous situation, so we’d request that you be patient. Afterwards, you will be escorted back to New Mexico. As for you,” he said, looking at Aaron, “you should probably remember that you are still officially an employee of SHIELD, with all the rules and guidelines that comes with that.”

He had a gift for making a pleasant tone sound threatening.

Aaron’s eyes narrowed. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“We’ll deal with that later,” said Maria.

“You won’t lock me up,” he said, but didn’t sound particularly certain.

“Really sure about that?”

* * *

They arrived in Odin’s chambers. The other warriors had left to help with the preparations so that Frigga and Loki were accompanied by just one guard, but Thor could not quite stop himself from tagging along. It was only a few minutes, after all. No war was lost in that time.

He looked so peaceful, lying there. Under that hazy curtain of gold that sheltered him from the world, he seemed not quite of this reality. Thor averted his gaze to look back at Loki, who was slowly approaching the Allfather with an expression approaching reverence. There was something oddly private about the scene before him, and Thor had the ridiculous urge to look away as if he were intruding on something. That was the effect Loki could have, of course. An intensity without compare. Even Frigga hung back a little, allowing Loki to stand over Odin, looking down at the man he had until so recently believed to be his blood father.

Thor realised too late when something shifted in his brother’s expression.

Loki brought his hand up, his mouth having curled into a tight grimace.

And in Loki’s hand a dagger flashed, brought down towards Odin in a single swift motion. Yet Frigga had in an instant conjured a blade to counter Loki’s just above the Odin's throat. Metal clashed against metal and Loki snarled, the sound half-crazed as he considered the woman who raised him with wild eyes.

The guard rushed towards him but Loki evaded him with ease before spinning around and kicking him so hard he flew against the nearest wall and crumpled to the ground.

Frigga considered her son with such regret that Thor’s heart throbbed even as she pushed him back. Thor, who had been frozen in shock and who would have let his father die at Loki’s hands, came to his senses then and stumbled towards Loki, but he was too late to stop Loki charging at their mother without any hesitation, swinging not one but two blades.

Frigga ducked, the first knife swishing over her head and brought up her dagger just in time to block the other one, the hilt scraping against Loki’s knife not an inch before her chest. Before Loki could move the other hand, Thor finally got there to grab it and throw Loki over his shoulder, bringing him crashing to the floor so hard that he worried it would seriously injure him. Loki did stay down, but his moan was just loud enough to assuage Thor’s concerns.

Thor had little control of his raging thoughts as he looked around wildly, trying to figure out what to focus on, what to do. Somehow, his brother in all his madness managed to regain control over his senses sooner than he did.

“Go on then,” murmured Loki. Then louder: “Go on! I just attacked your father with intent to kill. Strike me down as a true king should.”

“I won’t kill you,” said Thor, looking down at him. He was certain of that much.

“Coward.” His eyes met Thor’s, more crazed than ever. “You never did deserve the throne. How incapable you are of defending it.”

“Stop it.”

“Or what?”

“Why would you do this?” moaned Thor. “Whatever he’s done, he is our father.”

“Not mine,” said Loki. “He never was.”

“And am I not your mother?” asked Frigga.

Loki looked up into her eyes, tears pooling in his eyes. “Apparently not,” he croaked before instantly averting his gaze. He made no move to stand up.

Frigga bent down and with that unchanged expression of regret moved to lay handcuffs on her son for what was - what? - the third time? Thor could hardly bear watch his brother be constrained again, but when she pulled Loki to his feet with a little difficulty beside her, Thor looked at her with new understanding, eyes wide.

“You _knew_ he intended to attack my father. You were waiting for it.”

Frigga shook her head, gaze imploring. “I had hoped I was mistaken. You must believe me, Thor.”

“How am I meant to believe you? After all this?”

“I am so sorry,” whispered Frigga, but whether it was to Thor or to Loki, he could not tell. Maybe it was to them both. “So sorry…”

* * *

So Loki had tried to kill the Allfather.

He should have guessed, should have known… But Frigga had, apparently. That shouldn't be a surprise to him.

Yet he had not the time to focus even on that. The frost giants were moving. Heimdall saw them use their own magic to travel through the realms with increasing horror. To open a tear that had only just been closed. Veiling themselves in a mist of magic, they tore through the rip to emerge -

Not on Asgard. But on Midgard.

* * *

 

“Multiple hostiles converging on the centre of the town.”

“Barton, get us there.”

On the screen, Maria saw… she didn’t quite know. Certainly not human. Converging was the wrong word. More like… appearing. A weird fog swirling around the square where moments earlier, cars had been driving calmly. Then it lifted slightly and they stood there, a small army. And the screams begun.

They had landed smack bang in the middle of Tønsberg’s residential centre.

“Get the people out of there, now!” shouted Maria.

They stood there, not moving a muscle which conveniently gave a mixture of agents and the Norwegian police a chance to do exactly that, as people clambered from their cars and scooped up all they cared about and ran as fast as they could. The jet was fast approaching as all its occupants stared at whatever the hell they were looking at.

“They look a bit like Loki,” said Foster from where she had been watching over Maria’s shoulder.

Like…

So were these frost giants?

Aaron echoed her question almost as soon as she had thought it. “You think they’re frost giants?”

“It’s the most likely explanation, isn’t it?” said Sahar.

“What d’you think happened on Jotunheim?” asked Lewis. “I hope… Oh, man.”

Maria frowned at her. “Do you think this is Loki’s doing?”

To her surprise, she got one or two glares in response. These civilians were still remarkably - or irritatingly - feisty.

“I was actually wondering whether they’d killed him,” said Lewis.

“Then why are they here?”

Lewis shrugged.

“Maybe…” said Sahar, then stopped. Her gaze was shifting rapidly as if she were thinking, trying to toy together this puzzle as quickly as possible. “So what if this is… Retribution?”

“For what?”

“For something Loki did,” said Lewis, looking to Sahar in understanding. “He hated frost giants, didn’t he? I mean, that’s why he tried to… you know.”

“Yeah,” said Sahar. “So what if he tried to… I don’t know, attack them or something?”

“He was trying to prove himself,” said Aaron with a surprising amount of certainty. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? You find out you belong to a people you were brought up to hate, you think the people who raise you are going to reject you. So what do you do? You attack them, to show where your true loyalties lie.”

“And it’s not unlikely he wasn’t intending to survive that encounter,” added Sahar, looking a little sick.

This got a whole lot of frowns but Maria didn’t have time to worry about Loki. She glanced at Coulson who had been listening carefully and he gave her a small shrug as if to say, _You got a better theory_? But there wasn’t any time for more speculation. The frost giants, if that’s what they were, wouldn’t stay still forever. As they prepared to land, her mind churned in an attempt to somehow evaluate the situation.

How many of them were there? Maria struggled to get an accurate impression. Certainly less than a hundred. Not much of an invasion. It slightly soothed her fears - even if Tønsberg were overrun and they with it, the rest of the world should hardly be in danger. Should it? But from what she had been told, Loki was a frost giant and they _had_ managed to subdue him. If with much difficulty.

_This is going to be fine._

If she told herself that often enough, she might almost believe it.

They landed, several feet away from the aliens.

“Stay here,” said Maria curtly to the civilians.

“If these are frost giants -“ started Jane.

“Keep quiet. This is way out of your league.”

Aaron was about to protest but she had already turned around and headed to the exit.

Once outside, she got a better look at one of the creatures that had landed.

“What the fuck,” said one of the other agents who had followed her out with a passion.

Maria could not agree more.

These beings were not from Earth, and in a far more conspicuous way than either Loki or Thor. Grey skinned and red-eyed, they towered above the humans.

“These guys are meant to be from the same species as Loki?” muttered Coulson, and Maria could see what he meant. They looked _nothing_ like Loki, though of course she hadn’t seen him in his… other form. Still, it was a good reminder that if these were indeed frost giants, there was nothing to say that they couldn’t be reasoned with. Loki, despite everything that had happened to him, had been at the very least… approachable. Hopefully, these beings would be too.

“Evacuate this entire town,” said Maria. Didn’t mean she was going to take any chances. “Now. And get every SHIELD agent on this entire continent here now. The Norwegian military, whoever else might be able to help. Someone has to talk to the Europeans. Get the French, Germans, Brits, whoever on the phone - we might need them.”

“We don’t have a lot of vehicles here. If we use military aircraft to get them away, they can’t be used to fight. Plus, no way for us to get away,” said Coulson.

Maria hesitated. “First priority has to be the civilians. Establish a radius, make sure we contain this potential threat here and now.”

Coulson nodded and walked briskly away.

Barton had clambered up a building already so it was just her and another agent and a bunch of frost giants. Loads of other agents were close, of course… Just not close enough for her liking.

 _Get a grip_.

Maria took the megaphone offered to her by the agent and stepped forward, back straight and gaze steely.

“This is SHIELD. Identify yourself.”

Silence. The frost giants were now looking at her, several feet taller and all pretty terrifying. Yeah, this was really going great.

One of them stepped forwards. The leader, perhaps? Its red eyes gleamed as its mouth opened to show a lot of teeth, but it bared them at her rather than… well, talking. Negotiating. Doing something that would lessen her terror.

Its hand seemed to become encrusted in ice, jutting down in a sharp edge. Maria’s eyes widened before she leaped sideways, only _just_ in time. A shard of ice seemed to shoot forwards as some shrubbery that had been behind her froze.

Yeah, frost giants seemed like a pretty apt description.

“Fire, now!” she yelled as the frost giants charged.

A flurry of bullets rained down on them, agents and allies having gotten up on the roofs with some serious machine guns. It might not be enough to fell the frost giants, but it was certainly enough to stall them and most definitely saved Maria’s life, who managed to use the distraction to get some cover and hide herself from the onslaught. Frost giants were leaping high onto the roofs - so they could do that? Great - and were met by screams and rapid firing. Shards of ice were being propelled at convenient targets as they began to spread out. Maria tried to figure out what the hell they wanted, because right now this looked like pretty random destruction.

With a feeling of dread she remembered the now unprotected jet just sitting in the square, with her brother and other civilians inside. If the frost giants decided to attack, there was pretty much nothing she could do. She couldn’t ever forgive herself… The horror rose in her even as she knew she couldn’t do much except trying to contain this mess.

More were coming through. Brilliant. Just…

She sent up a small prayer of thanks that at least they had all converged on one spot.

“Someone’s gotta get a visual on wherever they’re coming through. See if we can close it down.”

“They seem to just be _appearing_ in some sort of mist,” said Coulson. Yeah, she knew that, but how the hell did that _work_?

“I’ll try to get closer,” said Barton.

Maria had the urge to tell him to be careful, but she resisted it.

“If we don’t contain this properly, a whole lot of people are gonna die. We _need_ that perimeter.”

“Copy that,” said Coulson, sounding like he didn’t much appreciate being told the obvious. “We need people to attack from jets if possible. Long-distance attacks seem our best bet.”

That seemed about right considering none of them stood a chance at close range.

At that moment, one of the frost giants who stood close to Maria sent a pillar of ice roaring towards the jet she _had_ to protect. Driven by pure instinct, she jumped out from her cover to get a clear shot at him. She shot three times in a tight formation at the biggest target: the chest. The bullets impacted but seemed to bounce right off without much effect. Maria cursed and rolled behind a grey jeep, grateful for the cover it provided. At least that had successfully distracted the frost giant from the jet, which was still sitting there. One small problem - it was now very much focused on her.

She ran, staying low even though she knew she had no chance of outrunning it. Footsteps behind, no telling how close. It would catch her. She would die.

She threw a glance over her shoulder, making sure she got the timing right. It was almost upon her and as it drew back an arm to hit at her she stopped and rolled towards him so that she was right under it, coming up with her boots and one hand digging into the ground and the other holding the gun tightly. It looked down in surprise at the foolish human who had gotten far too close, but the moment it did so she fired right at the eyes - once, twice, three times as it reared back and fell. She stared at it for several seconds but it no longer moved.

Huh.

“These bullets aren’t doing much,” came Coulson’s voice through the earpiece.

“Depends on where you shoot,” said Maria, appreciating the dramatic irony despite everything. “How far are reinforcements?”

“Significant reinforcements? At least another half hour.”

“We should have called them in sooner,” muttered Maria. “All right then. We stall until they arrive. Try to keep the civilians safe.”

“There’s three rocket launchers in the jet from Oslo. We already have agents using them.”

“Good. And everyone else…” She breathed in deeply, trying to remain calm. “Aim for the eyes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this is well angsty. Kinda realised the extent of the angstiness while editing. But hey, do still leave comments!


	16. 8.2

He had dragged Loki out of Odin’s chambers and into a nearby anteroom. When they were joined by the Warriors Three and Sif, they passed on news from Heimdall of what was happening on Midgard, making Thor’s heart plummet.

But he hadn’t told them what Loki had done. He still didn’t quite… This was all wrong, all wrong.

 _What if he’s executed_?

He had tried to kill the Allfather. Treason of the highest order. They could - They could actually…

And Jotunheim. What if they demanded Loki in exchange for peace? How could Thor make that decision? How?

Would his own foolishness end up killing his brother after all?

His mother was tending to Odin. He would not get any advice from her. This was something he had to figure out on his own, in the middle of this huge mess. This catastrophe. This -

 _Can I save my brother while protecting Asgard_?

Loki must know what he was thinking. But he was of no help - _no help_ \- _he keeps asking me to kill him_! What could he -

“We need to go there,” he said. “Now.” That much was clear, even as the others stared at him, waiting for his leadership, unaware of the chaos within.

“And leave the palace undefended?” asked Fandral.

“Not undefended. Volstagg and Hogun, you head our defences here. Fandral and Sif, you will come with me when we lead a small force to stop the frost giant attack. _Now_ ,” he repeated.

All of them bowed their heads.

But what about -

“What of the prisoner?” asked Hogun, wary eyes on Loki.

Thor had not known that his forehead could crease any further before he followed Hogun’s gaze. Loki was a diminished figure, having sunken to his knees and looking so devoid of hope or life that Thor could not imagine his brother’s spirit still being in such a shell.

“Take me with you,” said Loki, shocking everyone.

The relatively small room was filled with exclamations of surprise and disbelief, but Thor paid them no heed as he examined his brother.

“So that I can give you another chance to kill yourself? Or… someone else?”

“I’m not going to try and kill myself,” said Loki in that ever so hollow tone. “Or you, or anyone in this realm. I don’t pretend anymore to care for Asgard… or Jotunheim. No more deceit, Thor. But the people of Midgard showed me some kindness and I have brought war to their world. Let me help put it right, then you can put me in chains and execute me for all I care.”

“Why would I trust you after everything you’ve done?” asked Thor.

“ _Don’t_ trust him,” said Volstagg instantly, glaring at Loki.

Loki, for his part, met Thor’s eyes without fury for the first time since they had gotten back to Asgard, wet and blue and barely concealing an abyss of melancholy. “You don’t have to trust me. But you can’t deny that I’m a strong fighter, and neither can you claim that I have shown any proclivity towards the frost giants. Let me loose for just a little longer so I can help your cause while it aligns with my own. It’s the last thing I ask for.”

If he fought on Asgard’s side, there could be no denying that he was _of_ Asgard. Not to the frost giants - or for Asgard.

Was this the answer he had been looking for? Would Loki give him a way out after all?

If the others knew what he knew, they would never let him go. But they _didn’t_ \- no one except for Loki and Frigga and one unconscious guard and Thor himself knew what had happened in Odin’s chambers. And as long as they didn’t… Maybe he could save his brother.

But there was another thing. Another huge thing he could no longer ignore.

“Do you intend to die in battle?” he asked, knowing this probably shouldn’t be his biggest concern. He _should_ be focusing on his duties as king above his duties as a brother. But…

Loki hesitated. “No,” he said and for whatever stupid, benighted reason Thor could not help but trust him.

“It’s a stupid risk,” said Sif. “You do realise that, don’t you?”

And she was right. Of course she was. But Loki _had_ brought war to their world, as he had said. And now he wanted to right that wrong. If Thor denied him that chance… Well, Loki did not even have to say anything. The truth hung between them, all the more real for being unspoken. Even if by some miracle Loki escaped the punishments two realms would want to enact upon him, Thor would lose his brother forever.

It was a question of honour, wasn’t it? Something every _Asgardian_ understood, Sif better than most. Not that Loki had ever seemed to care much for it. But he did now. Or so he said. And that would have to suffice.

“If you try _anything_ ,” said Thor, trying to inject his voice with as much conviction as possible, “I won’t hesitate.”

Loki nodded.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

“I am _not_ staying in here,” said Aaron.

“It’s way too dangerous!” exclaimed Darcy.

“My sister’s out there!”

A beat.

Erik stepped towards Aaron. “Look, I get the impression she can take care of herself. We’re civilians, remember? Out there, it’s a war zone. And you don’t strike me as a soldier.”

“If she got hurt and I wasn’t there, I’d never forgive myself,” said Aaron staunchly.

“It’s insane to go out without any weapons,” said Jane.

Sahar nodded. “I agree.”

Aaron frowned at her. “I have to do this.”

“But it’d definitely be better to do it with weapons, right?”

Sahar rushed over to a wall panel that some of the agents had taken weapons out of.

“We don’t have the security clearance any more!” said Aaron.

She ignored him and pulled what looked like tools out of her backpack, using them too pry the cover of the pin pad off.

“What the hell are you doing?” asked Darcy as Sahar attached a weird device Aaron didn’t recognise to the inside of the pad. She pressed a button on it and waited, still ignoring the others who were crowding around. After less than a minute, there was a beeping sound and the door slid open to reveal a small arsenal of weapons.

“Voilà,” muttered Sahar and her mouth quirked into a small smile, clearly pleased at her work.

“How did you do that?” exclaimed Aaron. When had she learnt how to open SHIELD weapon lockers? This didn’t gel with what he knew about her _at all._ And what had she even used to do it?

Sahar shrugged. “A friend taught me how to get past SHIELD’s security systems. Figured it might be useful.”

“I’m sorry, you have a friend who knows how to steal stuff from SHIELD?” asked Jane a little faintly.

Aaron felt his heart slowly sink while his friend picked out a small gun fairly nonchalantly. “Your colleague knows how to fake IDs,” she said, “so I guess we all have our skills.” She saw the look on Aaron’s face and sighed. “Just a friend, I promise, Aaron. You’ve not been giving out state secrets to Hezbollah or whoever. Now do you want a gun or not?”

He nodded but vowed to himself that he would have a long conversation with Sahar when all this was over. He accepted the weapon, trying to remind himself how to use it, and began making his way to the exit.

They were all afraid, but he knew he could not stay in here. The nervous energy in him made him feel like he wanted to explode, the inside of the jet pressing onto him with a terrible force, he needed to get out, get away, and…

Someone grabbed at his wrist. He looked up to see Darcy.

“You’re seriously going to go out?”

He shrugged. “Can’t leave my stupid sister out there,” he said, trying and failing to sound cool.

“But -“

“Look, we might die in here. We might die out there. But I can’t stay sit around in here waiting for things to happen.”

She let go. There was something wrong about leaving her here - about leaving them here - but Aaron knew he could not stay any longer. Maria was out there. They had to make their own decision. Aaron couldn’t make it for them. And sure, he’d like to take longer to try and convince them, but…

Sahar was already at the door, watching them with a curious expression on her face.

“See you on the other side,” she said jauntily to the others.

* * *

Their arrival clearly got the frost giants’ attention, who instantly stopped chasing after mortals and focused on the Asgardians. They had spread far but now converged back on the open space they had arrived in. The mortals, for their part, took the cue to retreat rapidly, moving those injured and ones Thor suspected to be the remaining non-combatants as far away from the battle as they could.

As Thor faced them, a painful realisation jumped to his mind unbidden: these were Loki’s people by birth. He felt sudden uncertainty rise in him. Any other time these last thousand years, he would not have hesitated to slay them with little more thought than killing animals. What if they were all like Loki? Was he really to slaughter someone’s brother?

Yet this was war. Unwelcome as it was, the frost giants were attacking mortals, who were completely innocent in all this. Thor had to protect them. If only there were a way to convince them to stop…

“Who leads you?” he bellowed.

A frost giant stepped forward, even taller than the others. “He whose king was slain by one of yours,” he said. “Now we take our revenge.”

“The mortals are not responsible for this!”

“Why should we care? It is our -“

But before he could finish his sentence, there was a flash of silver and the frost giant started gurgling, coughing up blood and staggering sideways. Thor wheeled around to see Loki, teeth bared.

“What are you _doing_?”

Loki frowned at Thor. “They’re ravaging a Midgardian town and you want to reason with them? When did you turn so soft?”

Before Thor could answer that question, he had to respond to the frost giants who now charged at the Asgardians. Jumping up with arms enveloped in ice, they got close before Thor swung his hammer to knock the closest one back, taking several frost giants with him. But they were spreading out again, attacking ferociously and not just the Asgardians, shooting ice in several directions. Thor watched as a blast of icy energy shook a jet that looked like the one they had arrived in before he charged.

* * *

It was barely a minute after the other two left that something impacted the jet so strongly that it rocked back and forwards. That just about managed to change Darcy’s mind for good.

“If we stay here, we’re sitting ducks,” she said and when the other two hesitated, she went to the weapons closet and pulled out a handgun, pretending like she had any idea how to shoot it. “Let’s go!”

She didn’t know quite why, but the determination and urgency to leave was almost overwhelming. It was something… Something about how Jane and Sahar had willingly stayed behind with two dangerous brothers who were basically gods when Darcy had just needed to escape. Something about how quickly Aaron had rushed into danger just because he might be able to help his sister. She was getting tired of sitting around, tired of being scared.

“At least we have cover here,” said Erik, clearly not really feeling this whole trying-to-be-brave thing.

“We’re in a military vehicle in the middle of an alien invasion. If they decide to destroy it, we’re toast. You did feel us almost capsizing just now, right? What if something hits us harder next time?”

This was a pretty convincing point.

“She’s right,” said Jane, then walked over to the locker. “I’ve never used one of these before.”

“Unlock the safety, pull the trigger,” said Darcy. “Can’t be that hard.”

“And don’t point it in the wrong direction,” muttered Erik.

The only things left were two handguns and a bunch of things Darcy didn’t recognise, so that at least made the decision easier.

“You take them,” said Erik.

They did so and left the jet armed following the path Aaron and Sahar just a little earlier. Then, they quickly ducked for cover under the jet.

It was chaos. The Asgardians and frost giants in open combat, shards of ice meeting huge spears and swords and all types of other weapons Darcy would expect in the museum. Despite more pressing concerns, she couldn’t help but wonder whether they were still using the same weapons as the last time they had been on Earth. Something about long life spans decreasing the speed of technological progress?

She gave her brain a little kick. This really wasn’t the time for speculation.

“We have to find cover,” moaned Erik. “Proper cover.”

“What d’you think,” said Darcy to Jane, “one of the houses?”

“Isn’t that just substituting one sitting target for another?”

“They don’t have any reason to attack the houses,” said Erik.

“Couldn’t we run?”

“We have no idea how far they’ve gotten,” he said.“They could be all over the entire town -“

“How big is Tønsberg exactly?” asked Darcy.

“Big enough that we can’t just run out.”

“House it is.”

* * *

 Loki threw the woman out of the way just as the frost giant descended on them.

It was instinct more than anything else, years of experience of looking out for his comrades - no, they weren’t that, not any more - on the battlefield. His newest dagger found an easy target in the beast’s chest and it fell without much struggle. The first actual kill he’d managed after the first one, and only because it had clearly been shot repeatedly in the face.

Regrettably, it fell right on him and even though he managed to jump back its arm still hit him heavily enough that he fell on the ground.

Graceful.

He looked around whether to see whether Thor had observed this humiliating moment, then stopped himself. _It doesn’t matter_.

The woman had picked herself up and stared at the former prince, who grimaced as he raised himself.

“You must be Loki,” she said to his surprise, sounding remarkably composed. She looked at him askance and he returned the favour. There was something a little familiar about her.

“Yes.”

“I take it you’re the one we have to thank for all this,” she said. “Seems I _do_ have to thank you for saving my skin, though.” She hoisted a rather sizeable weapon and gave him a thin smile. “I’m not a big fan of you looking to turn Earth into your battlefield, whatever your grievances. But if you’re looking to help… make sure to protect any civilians you come across.”

She strode off assuredly and disappeared behind a building within seconds, Loki staring after her. They were strange, these mortals.

* * *

“Are those… more gods?”

“Depends on whether all Asgardians count as gods,” muttered Sahar. “Well, on the positive side that’ll distract them.”

They watched a huge man in golden armour parry a blow from an even huger frost giant from behind their pile of rubble. It was _their_ pile now - the one they had claimed as their own as the convenient result of a building collapsing. A house might’ve been better - all right, it’d definitely be better - but the idea of putting much effort into finding better cover didn’t quite appeal to them considering at least a dozen combatants were currently laying waste to the street while a helicopter flew up above and offered an occasional spray of bullets.

The frost giant managed to grab at the Asgardian’s hand and they saw the latter’s skin turn grey from the touch. As the Asgardian screamed, the frost giant used the opportunity to smash its sharpened arm into the Asgardian’s neck above where the armour ended. Sahar clamped her own hand over her mouth as blood spilled out and the Asgardian crumpled and was discarded by the frost giant with a sickeningly slick sound. As the frost giant turned around, Sahar ducked down further, pulling Aaron with her. They were both breathing heavily with their backs pressed against their stones. For his part, Aaron was just… praying.

But the frost giant sauntered off, in search of a new victim.

Aaron had almost clambered up before Sahar grabbed his arm.

“You can’t help him!”

He looked at her with wild eyes. “I have to try!”

“Aaron… He’s dead. You know the frost giant wouldn’t have left him alive.”

“Then I have to keep looking for Maria!”

Sahar yanked at his arm again, hard enough to pull him down. “Your sister, she is able to help herself,” she said in a low mutter. “No help if we died.”

Aaron let out a quiet curse of frustration, even as the sick feeling of worry threatened to overwhelm him yet again. He noticed Sahar contemplating the ground in evident concentration, as if she were thinking hard. “What is it?”

Sahar looked up, seeming a little flustered. “Just… I am thinking in their attack,” she said. “What’s the goal?”

“A lot of murder, I’m thinking.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but… This isn’t enough to take our world, obviously. Even if they send more… I don’t know. And they must have known Asgard would send help, right?”

“So?”

“So I’m wondering… What are they really after? Why are they doing this?”

Aaron shrugged. “Like we said earlier, it might be some form of revenge. Does it really matter right now?”

“Probably not,” she said. “It’d just… It’d help if we knew _why_ all of this is happening.”

Yeah, he got that.

But their little chat proved to almost be the death of them, since they did not notice the speedily approaching frost giant. Sahar must have seen something out of the corner of her eye because she slapped Aaron on the arm even as she sprung to her feet. He did the same an instant later as they faced the looming frost giant for a split-second before they turned and started running.

The being came after them and Sahar looked back, pointing her gun vaguely in its direction before firing twice. It was more as a warning than with any actual hope of hitting let alone injuring him, but Aaron did the same. Yet it didn’t even act as much of a deterrence, instead infuriating the frost giant even more as he was almost upon them. That would have been the end of them if an Asgardian hadn’t launched himself at his foe with a blood-curdling roar, distracting the frost giant with his very big axe. Sahar and Aaron took the opportunity to throw themselves behind the nearest tree, both sweaty and out of breath and staring at each other momentarily in shared terror.

Just then, they came face to face with a very familiar figure.

“Arsehole,” said Sahar vehemently. Despite everything that was going on, Aaron gave her his most disbelieving look, incredulous at her decision to insult a… god or very powerful alien who they hadn’t even known was still alive and was of questionable mental stability.

Loki for his part seemed to be amused by this greeting. “Good to see you’re still so energetic. Although I _am_ a little surprised to see you here,” he said, gaze resting on both of them in turn.

“Guess whose fault that is,” muttered Sahar. “Advice for the future: when someone shows you some sympathy, don’t knock them out.”

“I’ll try to remember it.”

Aaron’s mind was slowly getting back into gear after their close escape, and he took in Loki properly. The alien was now dressed in full armour, with loads of gold and heavy leather, if more green than seemed to be typical. He looked uninjured and surprisingly chipper given the circumstances, which might be some Asgardian warrior thing but somehow didn’t make Aaron feel any better.

“Eh… Why are _you_ here?” he asked, a little relieved in spite of himself that Loki was still alive.

“To make up for accidentally causing an invasion of Midgard.”

Sahar and Aaron exchanged a look.

So this _was_ his fault, Aaron thought but did not say. Instead - “What happened?”

“Only mortals would consider a battlefield an appropriate place for chitchat,” muttered Loki, yet he answered anyway. “It may have something to do with me killing the king of Jotunheim.”

On the positive side, it was good to know Aaron was still capable of shock. “You -“ He closed his eyes for a moment. “The king of…”

“The frost giants.” Loki cocked his head to one side. “My father.”

“Oh,” said Sahar somewhat faintly. “And… why exactly are they invading _us_?”

“To get at Asgard. Worked a thousand years ago, didn’t it?”

“Didn’t that end with Asgard defeating Jotunheim and Odin stealing their greatest treasure?” muttered Sahar. “But yeah, except for that I suppose it went brilliantly.”

“Invasion force is a bit small though, don’t you think?” asked Loki, pointedly ignoring the sarcasm.

But before they could continue this fascinating conversation, a frost giant into view, running from the square. He growled at them. Loki turned to them and sighed quite nonchalantly.

“So much for them not being monsters, eh?”

He reached into thin air and pulled out two daggers with particularly long blades, holding them out in the palm of one hand towards Aaron and Sahar, blades facing back at Loki.

“Your puny weapons won’t pierce their skins. Take these: at least you won’t be completely defenceless. Consider it an apology.”

Aaron and Sahar met each other’s eyes before reaching out and grabbing a dagger each by the hilt. The frost giant had by this point covered much of the distance between himself and them, but the moment the daggers had left Loki’s hand he spun around, sending a knife flying towards the frost giant’s neck. It hit its target squarely and the frost giant made a gurgling sound, staggering back slightly. Loki had already launched himself in the air and drove a sword into the grey-skinned chest, pushing the alien down to the ground in the process and landing lightly beside him. He turned to the two humans.

“And that is how you kill a frost giant. I suggest you remember it for future reference.” He paused. “I am sorry. For all of it.”

He gave them a last grin and disappeared around the corner.

* * *

Just as a new frost giant was rearing up, something whizzed past Loki and hit it in one of its glowing red eyes. It howled in pain, hands flying to its face. Loki took advantage of the distraction to fell the creature with a knife slash to the throat, then his head whipped around to see a man clad in tight black clothes and a half-smile, gripping a bow in one hand and already reaching for another arrow with the other.

“Good shot,” said Loki as he quickly put two and two together.

“Thanks,” the man said with an easy confidence that suggested considerable combat experience.

“You’re the one who shot me. With the arrow that helped put me down.”

“Is that going to be a problem?”

A pause. “No.”

“Good,” said the man, smile broadening. “I’m Clint, by the way.”

“Loki.”

“I’ve heard,” said Clint, turning around to send an arrow in the other direction, once again aiming for the eye. Loki could not help but be impressed as he sped on, looking for his next victim.

* * *

 Darcy peeked through the window at the unfolding chaos. She was still clutching a gun she had no real clue how to use - how hard could it be, really? - and was just generally terrified.

“There’s no back exit,” said Jane, having approached at a crouch.

Of course there wasn’t. “How’s Erik doing?”

“Seeing if there’s a lateral way out.”

 _Lateral_?

“Might be stuck here for a while.”

“Yeah.” Jane laid a hand on her forearm. “You good?”

“Fine,” said Darcy, trying to summon confidence to her voice. The nearest battle seemed a decent distance away, so that was… good.

“Sorry about this,” said Jane, giving her arm a light squeeze. When Darcy gave her a slightly confused look, she sighed. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for. And it’s just… I get caught up in things. And I lose sight of other things. I know that.”

“Uh huh,” said Darcy. “Look, I really appreciate this, but… um… maybe now isn’t the time?”

Jane nodded, brow furrowed in affected concentration. “You’re right. Yes. Okay, I’ll just check Erik doesn’t drive himself insane.”

“That sounds good,” said Darcy, going for a reassuring tone as Jane scampered off again. She watched her go for a moment. Brilliant scientist, terrible sense of timing.

But when she peeked out of the window again, something quickly caught her attention. Loki - alive! - facing off a frost giant not ten feet away from the window. But less facing off, instead… He stood with shock all over his features, frozen as the frost giant brought its hand towards Loki’s chest.

Darcy screamed and opened the window but it was too late - the frost giant had already stabbed its weapon through Loki. But then there was a shimmer of green and the man disappeared, leaving the frost giant to look around in confusion. A heartbeat later, there was a sickening sound and he stiffened, falling forward to reveal Loki standing behind him, very much alive and well. An illusion. The real Loki had a smile that never quite reached his eyes, which were deathly cold.

Okay… That was… Damn.

But there was a scream of something approaching agony - not human or Asgardian - as the frost giant was merely replaced by yet another. And Loki spun around, but sort of slower than he should be doing. Could a movement be muted?

The frost giant shifted to bring down a blow on Loki, but instead of dodging he stood still and looked at the being with something approaching… relief. It was too late, or maybe it wasn’t but he wouldn’t _do_ anything and now he seemed to close his eyes and - was that a smile on his face? What was he smiling for, what was he doing? - as he spread his arms out a little almost as if he welcomed the blow and before Darcy knew what she was doing she had picked up a vase standing on the sill and chucked it at the frost giant with all her strength. All the baseball practice finally paid off when it hit the frost giant squarely in the back.

“Hey! Shit face!” she hollered for good measure.

The frost giant spun around, ready to face this unknown assailant and looking distinctly surprised to see some puny girl shouting at him. But that surprise was quickly replaced by rage as he charged towards her, ready to take this new nuisance to the grave. Even as Jane screamed behind her, there was a sinking feeling in Darcy’s gut that told her that she was very dead. Had she… She’d led go of the gun when reaching for the vase and now it was lying over there and she hadn’t even noticed. She backed away but the frost giant simply… ran through the wall, swinging his arm to get rid of what she had believed to be pretty solid brick foundation.

Yet before he reached her, a knife appeared around his neck and bit into it, with so much force that it seemed to make it as much as half way through the thick neck as he made a gurgling sound and stayed upright way too long before the hand - which had itself turned a bright grey - holding onto the knife let go and the frost giant fell at her feet. She yelped, hands flying up and glasses almost flying off. Focusing with a little difficulty through the rather grubby glasses, she saw Loki standing behind the frost giant. He had saved her in turn.

His expression looked confused, unsure, like he did not understand what she had just done. But there was no time for questions, no time for anything as he rushed on, back out of the building without a word. And as her eyes followed him for a moment, she gradually remembered they were in the epicentre of an alien invasion and they had just lost their wall.

“The _hell_ did you do?” shouted Erik. She turned to see that he had slid down another wall, sweat trickling down his face as he looked at her as if she had gone mad. “ _What_ were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all? Was there any significant amount of thought -“

“That’s enough, Erik,” said Jane. She was panting slightly but looked alive enough as she came forward and clapped Darcy lightly on the back, looking both shell-shocked and a little impressed. “Shit face? Seriously?”

“It was a devastating insult. He’s devastated.”

“He’s dead.”

Darcy thought that was probably about as devastated as you could get, but she declined to say anything and instead focused on the more immediate problem of staying alive.

“There went our cover,” muttered Erik.

“Let’s check out the sitch outside?” said Darcy.

Jane shrugged. “Might as well at this point.”

But going outside, they were greeted by an even more incredible sight. Thor, standing on top of a rooftop and holding his hammer up high, as the lightning cracked down from the sky to engulf it. It was unbelievable, it was ridiculous. It engulfed him before he directed it at the nearest frost giants, felling them so easily with bright flashes of electricity.

So this was why he was considered a god.

“When all this is over,” said Jane to Darcy, “We’re going out for drinks. And I’m paying.”

Darcy nodded, utterly numb.

* * *

“ _Where_ are my sons?” exclaimed Frigga.

Heimdall looked at her a little wearily. “They’re both on Midgard.”

“They’re - Has Thor gone _completely_ insane?”

“He seemed to believe that it’s Loki’s right to try to fix a mess he started.”

Frigga brought her palm up to her face, looking more irate than Heimdall had ever seen her. “The _idiot_ boy. Doesn’t he realise that until Loki went down there, we had some chance of arguing that a prince who had been banished and disinherited could not truly be considered as acting on Asgard’s behalf? Now he’s shown up as part of the Asgardian delegation and _ruined_ that!”

“I suspect Thor will have been aware of that on some level,” said Heimdall. “He was claiming Loki as an Asgardian through his actions and offering him the legitimacy and protection that comes with it.”

That got him a very surprised look. “He told you this?”

“He didn’t have to.” Heimdall started as his eyes saw something unexpected. “My queen, get yourself back to the palace this very instant.”

“Why?”

“The frost giants are coming here.”

* * *

“Word from Asgard, my king,” said Hrolf. “The frost giants have gotten past our defences.”

“ _What_?” said Thor, catching hammer with outstretched palm. Then he understood. “This is a distraction.”

“It looks like it. The main brunt of their attack is aimed at their palace. My guess is they want our king’s life for what Loki did.” A beat. “Or the king’s father -“

“Peace, Hrolf. I know what you meant. Can Heimdall return us to Asgard?” He threw the hammer again, but the frost giant closest managed to evade it with an unusually sprightly move.

“Yes. We would have to leave the mortals to fend for themselves, but they are close to penetrating the palace bounds…”

“We cannot put Midgard’s well-being over our own,” said Thor, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. “There’s not many left anyway… Call the retreat.”

“Yes, my king.”

Time to go, thought Thor as he charged at another frost giant. His hammer impacted heavily with its jaw. He was about to call for Heimdall to take him up when he suddenly remembered -

Where was Loki?

How could he have been so _foolish_ as to lose him?

But now Fandral was walking up to him and he need to make another split-second decision.

“We can spare one warrior,”he said. “Help the mortals.”

“If you so wish,” said Fandral, who couldn’t have been keen at the idea of not helping _Asgard_. But he was a loyal friend.

“And if you see…” Thor trailed off, feeling almost guilty at the person who still preoccupied much of his mind. But he had said enough for Fandral to understand, and he nodded, his expression not one of reproach but rather one of honest sympathy. Thor did not deserve such friends, he reflected, before pushing these thoughts away. There was time for this later. Not now.

And a new guilty thought awoke in him, one he could not quite repress: if Loki had disappeared, Asgard could not enact a punishment on him for attempting to slaughter the Allfather. And if he disappeared, Jotunheim would not be able to avenge his murder of their king.

What the hel was wrong with him?

He knew he had to return to Asgard, but he also wanted to find Loki, to take care of him like he should have done this entire time, to search the whole realm if he had to. And yet he was still king and his kingdom was under attack.

He felt a little sick. The idea that he was putting Asgard above his brother was more painful than anything Loki could ever have inflicted. And at the same time he knew that Loki’s disappearance might be the only chance he had. So was he doing right by Loki or not?

What a mess this all was.

“Heimdall! Take me up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor is me in this update realising things were looking real terrible for Loki and desperately trying to make things better. Only respect for the number one apologist.  
> Please leave comments as we get into the wrap-up stage of this fic!


	17. 9.1

When Thor, Sif and other assorted warriors had brushed themselves off, Heimdall bowed to his king.

“How far have they gotten?”

“The palace defences still hold. Yet perhaps not much longer.”

Thor cursed. “How did they even get to Asgard?”

“Much the same way they got to Midgard, I imagine. Loki is not the only one who knows of the hidden paths between the realms, even if we had imagined those workings had long been forgotten on Jotunheim.”

“Clearly not,” said Sif. “Thor, you travel the fastest of us. Go ahead by way of Mjølnir and we shall follow. The throne must be protected.”

“And the casket,” added Geir, shooting Heimdall an appraising look before focusing on his task once more.

Thor did not argue, but rather stepped forwards, exuding confidence as only battle could evoke in him. He spun his hammer several times before stretching out his arm and flying out of the Observatory at full speed.

“A boat is prepared for your warriors outside,” said Heimdall.

Sif frowned. “Should it not be engaged in defence of our palace?”

“A few could be spared to get our strongest warriors speedily back to where they are needed.”

Sif nodded and strode out of the Observatory with sword still clasped firmly in hand. The others followed her and they mounted the skif, Sif putting her hand on the metal control pole and made it rise gently into the air, before blasting forwards at full speed towards the palace.

Once more alone, Heimdall knew he must content himself to watch both conflicts. It remained painful to be so powerless, burning his soul as did the guilt that his actions were to blame for war in three realms.

Thor had already arrived at the palace, where a small army of frost giants was laying siege on the defences. Even in the heyday of the Asgard-Jotunheim War, they had never gotten this far. Yet they had not sent enough to seize the palace - surely they were aware of that.

That wasn’t the point, of course. Asgard had killed their king. And their revenge was to be in kind.

Thor’s hammer swung and made a frost giant fly back twenty - thirty - feet. He yelled as he let Mjølnir tear through the ground while physically kicking back one frost giant. Some of the restraint he had shown on Midgard had drained away, the hot fury of battle overwhelming him in a display of why he was one of the finest warriors Asgard had ever had. Did he think now that he was maiming his brother’s kinsmen?

What could Jotunheim seek to gain from this conflict? Naught, but to retain their dignity. They had been provoked, and they at least wanted to settle the score.

Not that there was much hope of that.

And even deserted by the Asgardians, the mortals fought bravely against the few remaining frost giants. Now armed with huge weapons that spewed fire and destruction at their enemies, they had irrefutably gained the upper hand. Led by the group Thor had become acquainted with, they moved together efficiently and with a tactical prowess the frost giants could not have expected. Machines flew through the air, propelled by blades that whipped around in circles, with mortals shooting at the frost giants from above and stayed out of their range, sometimes firing many small projectiles, sometimes firing one huge beast of flames.

And in a chamber far removed from the battle, with only his wife to attend to him, an old king woke up.

The numbers of the frost giants dwindled. One mortal was thrown against a building but punishment was swift. An Asgardian screamed as the frost giant’s burning ice grip turned his skin black, but a comrade struck the attacker from behind. The sound of screams was hardly unusual, the sight of death no stranger to him. Yet that did not make it any more pleasant. Thor directed the Asgardians to corner the remaining frost giants, before making sure that none had made their way into the palace. They had not.

He was leader now, a king who had to cast aside all personal concerns and inclinations to make sure his people won the day, for that was what he had to do. That was his role. Just as the mortals protected what was theirs, with a fiery determination that matched Asgardians. Yet some had stopped fighting. Some were crouching next to the frost giants. One frost giant had already been moved away, unable to fight but still alive. On the orders of their commander, the wounded frost giants were to be attended. That came as a surprise, especially considering the vigour with which the mortals defended themselves. Something approaching… mercy? Kindness.

As Thor swung Mjølnir one last time, taking the head of the frost giant clean off, silence fell over the palace. In the midst of the rubble, the blood and the corpses stood the young king, his job done for now. All that was left was to tend to the wounded, to dispose of the dead and to… what? Where did they go from there? Heimdall looked upon Thor, the pale light of the sun brushing over a withdrawn and regretful face. Dirty and bloody yet standing broad-shouldered like a warrior must, he held Mjølnir with the confidence of a king. But an unhappy one.

There was a sound from behind and Thor, as if by instinct, turned. Odin stood there, looking at the ruined palace defences with an implacable expression. Thor stared at him for a moment, then seemed to remember something. With nary a word to his father, he rose his hammer to the sky and flew away from the palace, back towards Heimdall.

* * *

Thor ignored his father and rushed back to the Bifrost. He had to find him he _had to_.

Asgard carried the scars of battle but he saw them only briefly from above as his hammer carried him to the Observatory.

He looked straight at Heimdall, who immediately understood his intentions. Maybe something in the steely look in his eyes convinced Heimdall that there was no point in arguing. He said not even a word before plunging his sword into the Observatory and engaging its works to send Thor back to Midgard.

Thor landed in that familiar flash of rainbow light, showering around him as he quickly adjusted to his surroundings. People stared at him, but mostly they were far more worried about their own problems. And what problems, indeed.

The Midgardian battle had subsided. Yet the clear signs of destruction and injury still surrounded them. By all measures, even when accounting for their vast superiority in manpower the mortals had won a decisive victory. They had managed to remove most of the non-combatants from where the battle raged, and after initial losses and injuries they had managed to attack from afar. The Asgardians had given them an important advantage, after that the mortals had easily managed the clean-up.

Thor did not know what he expected to find. Loki, leaning against a house, all ready to go back to Asgard? Of course not. But he had to look, right? There was a chance, wasn’t there?

A familiar face greeted him, a little dirtier now but still bright and lively enough. That at least was a relief.

Fandral stepped towards him and Thor’s face was full of the biggest question he had.

“No sign of him.”

“Can you… Please, see if you can find him.”

Fandral nodded and moved away in a steady jog, while Thor turned around to survey the scene more closely.

He saw Jane lying on the ground and rushed over, a stab of fear coursing through him. Yet she was only knocked down and when Thor helped her to stand, she did so fairly steadily.

“The others?” he asked.

“There’s Darcy and Erik,” she said, then coughed repeatedly. Must be all the dust. He gave her a few moments before she managed to gesture to her left, still coughing. There was Darcy, hovering over Erik who had two men crouching over him, clearly treating him. Thor’s heart began to sink before he saw that the mortal’s eyes were open and he was mumbling something to Darcy, who looked a little teary. Jane started walking towards them and almost fell over, at which point Thor almost automatically held out a hand to help her, before walking over with her, hand on her back.

“Are you all right?” asked Jane.

It was Darcy who answered. “Erik got hit by some falling bricks. They need to check for concussion but… he should be fine.”

Jane sighed with a mixture of worry and relief. “Any sign of Aaron and Sahar?”

Darcy shook her head, an expression of anxiety plastered across her face. “I bet they’re fine,” she said anyway.

Thor was torn between staying here with this little gathering and his duties elsewhere. Clearly Jane saw his dilemma and she extricated herself determinedly from his grip.

“I know you have other places to be,” she said. “You don’t need to worry about us. We’re fine.”

He was still reluctant, but knew she was right. He nodded at Darcy, and at Erik lying on the ground, no idea whether the latter was paying any attention to him.

“Farewell Darcy. Erik.”

Darcy gave him a quick grin before looking again at Erik.

“I will see you again,” he said to Jane, and after a moment’s hesitation taking her hands in his.

She gave him a decidedly weak smile, but still looked pleased. “I’ll hold you to that.”

When he landed next, he found not Aaron or Sahar, but he did come face to face with one of the agents. Coulson, he believed his name was. Somehow, the man put on his usual smile when he saw Thor, all calm and all business as he put away the device into which he had been saying orders.

Thor stepped forwards and clapped the man on the shoulder, getting a wince in response.

“Son of Coul,” he said, “I apologise for all the carnage my realm has brought to yours.”

“Thanks for that,” said Coulson, quite unfazed, “though I don’t suppose Asgard has any sort of insurance policy?”

Thor looked at him blankly.

“Never mind. No sign of your brother, I suppose?”

He shook his head, the heaviness in his heart giving a painful push. “No, although I will continue searching.” His gaze fell upon one of the frost giants. “Do any of the frost giants still live?”

“We think so, though in some cases it’s hard to tell. They’re receiving our medical attention now.”

Thor blinked several times. These mortals still had the power to surprise. “I would warn you that even injured, they could pose a threat.” An idea came to him. “If you are willing, you could hand them over to us. Returning them to Jotunheim might count as a gesture of good will and prevent this useless conflict from continuing any further.”

Coulson’s forehead creased. “In exchange for them no longer attacking our people?”

“Yes, and ours.”

A pause. “That’s not my call to make,” he said. “I’ll get back to you on it.”

Not the response Thor wanted, but it was one he would have to accept. “One of my people will stay here. When you decide, tell him and he will get word back to us.”

Coulson nodded and then moved on, less interested in decorum than dealing with the repercussions of what had happened.

Once he had gotten back to the square where the frost giants arrived, he knew he would have to go back to Asgard soon to deal with matters there. But before that…

His eyes turned to Fandral, searching his face in anguish but he shook his head.

Loki had vanished.

* * *

Aaron rushed to the body, realising that he (or she?) could still be dangerous but in that moment not caring. It was an ugly sight. Concerted machine gun fire had eventually penetrated the skin and torn into flesh. Out of the wounds oozed a dark sludge-like liquid that had spread across much of the chest.

“Tabban,” muttered Sahar. “Is he… dead?”

“I think so,” said Aaron, feeling sick to his gut.

He was crouching but not fell back, rocking himself as he brought his hands to his face. Sahar leant over the frost giant and stared down, horror plastered over her face.

“I’d check for a bulse - pulse,” she said, “but… I doubt I’d feel anything. Even if I knew where to check.” She straightened and stepped over to Aaron, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“This was so… senseless,” he said, voice hollow. “They didn’t even care about us. They just wanted to get at Asgard.”

“I know.”

“I wish I thought of them as monsters… But we met Loki. And he was one of them, right? And whatever he was… He wasn’t a monster.”

“No, he wasn’t.”

“But they invaded us. We had to stop them, right?”

“It was very much kill or be killed,” said Sahar heavily. “Doesn’t make it any less of a tragedy.”

Aaron bit into his right hand in a forlorn attempt to remain in control. “If Loki hadn’t gotten the jet…” he said eventually.

“He would have found another way. There’s a lot of blame to go around, Aaron. Don’t try to take too much of it.”

Aaron fell over onto his knees, just about turning around far enough that he knelt away from the frost giant, and retched. There wasn’t much to come out. Then he started crying, heated tears running down dirty cheeks. He fell back again as Sahar moved to him, gathering him up in a tight hug and holding him as he cried. He could almost pretend in that moment that it was his sister holding him and taking care of him. Like he was still a child.

But now he was on a battlefield, exposed once again to what an idiot he was. How could he have been foolish enough to think that first contact with aliens was to be something exciting? That magic would be something wonderful? Here again was darkness - and the darker fear that this was his fault. Eventually he relaxed and fell back, just sitting next to Sahar and so very close to the corpse of the frost giant.

A little later, they heard the sound of fast approaching footsteps and Aaron turned his head to see a man drenched in sweat, loosely holding a bow in one hand.

“Are you two all right?” asked Agent Barton.

Sahar nodded, standing up before pulling up Aaron. She still looked a little shaky herself. “We’re alive, anyway. How about you?”

Barton reached out a steadying hand and he gave them a lopsided grin. “All in a day’s work.”

“Is the battle over?”

“Sure hope it is, seeing as I ran out of arrows a while back.” But he nodded in reassurance. “We’d better get you back to the jet. Commander Hill will want to see you. Can you walk?”

“We’re not really injured. Just tired.”

Aaron nodded in agreement. He got a look tinged with worry from Barton as they started walking, but it was hard to find the energy even for a few words.

“Your sister would kill me if you got seriously hurt,” said Barton.

“She’ll probably kill me herself,” mumbled Aaron.

Barton snorted. “Could be, yeah.”

* * *

“Barton found Aaron.”

Maria could not help but sigh in relief as Coulson greeted her with a nod and welcome news. “Is he all right?”

“Bit knocked up, as is his friend. But nothing serious.”

“They just couldn’t stay in the jet.”

“Can you blame them? That jet was a target.”

True enough. Lucky then that her brother never managed to follow instructions. “Is that the last of them?” she asked.

“We think so,” said Coulson. “Twenty-eight dead, nine injured, an unknown number fled once the Asgardians left. We also have four dead Asgardians, no clear numbers yet for our people.”

Maria shivered. “This much damage done by less than a hundred aliens.”

“Still, we beat them. Even if we were never their main target, that has to count for something.”

Not that they hadn’t done it without help. “What do we do with the injured ones?”

“Thor’s been in touch. He wants Asgard to handle it - send them back to Jotunheim as a symbol of peace.”

Maria raised her eyebrows. “We were never at war with them in the first place. They just invaded us as part of their squabble with Asgard.”

“I know that. Still, I’d rather they didn’t invade us again.”

“Then shouldn’t we send them back ourselves? I don’t know whether we should be letting Asgard handle our diplomacy for us.”

“To be fair, this is kind of new territory for us.”

How true. “Don’t release them to Thor yet. Fury needs to make that call.”

“Should I get him updated, or do you want to?”

Maria grimaced. “This is on me.”

“Not everything is, you know.”

“Maybe… but this is.”

“And what of Loki?”

“What of him?”

“His brother doesn’t know where he is. My best guess is he took down a few frost giants, saw his brother distracted and took the chance to skip town.”

“So he’s probably still on Earth.”

“Probably. I’m guessing we’ll want to take him in?”

Maria stared into the near distance as the bustle of SHIELD continued around him. “I don’t know whether that’ll be an option. Keep an eye out for him? Definitely.” A pause. “He saved my life back there. And despite his actions… I’d still prefer he weren’t an enemy to humans.”

“I’d still like to know where he is.”

“No objections here.”

Coulson was looking pensive as he watched SHIELD do its work. “All this because some king decided to banish his son.”

“And because he lied to him,” added Maria. She felt a prickle of irritation and it took a moment to figure out what caused it. “Something about this whole banishment really sticks wrong with me. Like using Earth as a kind of timeout zone, who cares about who gets hurt in the process.”

“I was thinking something similar,” said Coulson.

“There’s something incredibly patronising about it.”

“Something tells me it’d be a bad idea to give Asgard the impression they can push us around.”

“Can they?” said Maria. “Push us around, I mean. Those Asgardian warriors did seem pretty extremely tough.”

“Then we’ll deal with it,” said Coulson. “We’re pretty strong too. In our own way.”

They both looked around at the continuing clean up, at the remains of frost giants and humans being taken away, at the tent set up for dealing with the lightly injured and at the people trying to remove traces of what happened. Not that there was much point. There was no way this would remain hidden.

* * *

“Have the mortals gone mad?”

Odin was returned to his throne, yet this was hardly full court. For now, there was only the king, his wife, Heimdall, Thor and his friends as well as several warriors and attendants. They all knew what the main reason for this encounter was, yet for now the meeting had subsided into indignation about the mortals not immediately acceding to Thor’s offer.

“They didn’t say no,” said Thor, an air of fatigue hanging around him. “They need to consult with their leaders. It is their decision.”

“Asgard has always protected them!”

“And how well a job did it do this time?” asked Sif, earning her many irritated looks. “The mortals do have a point,” she continued. “I imagine they might be at least considering handling their own diplomacy.”

“Of which they have no clue!” said Volstagg. “How exactly do they intend to take care of this situation?”

“Nothing is decided yet,” said Thor. “They went so far as to treat injured frost giants, a remarkable move in itself. I note we don’t have any imprisoned frost giants to barter with.”

“We could acquire some quickly enough,” muttered Volstagg.

“No!” said Thor, a hint of fire entering his voice. His friend looked at him in surprise. “We didn’t want this war to begin with, and a move like that would only serve to escalate it.”

“That is not your decision to make,” came the voice from the throne, finally interjecting in the squabbling. All turned to face their newly awakened king, including Heimdall who was still waiting for the conversation to turn to the matter of his own indiscretions. “It is mine.”

Thor bowed his head in response to this clear reestablishment of authority. The king had grown no less commanding in his slumber and sitting above them, it was as if he had never been gone. But of course he _had_ been gone, and the tightening in the jaw muscles of one prince and the absence of the other did well to remind them of it.

“What word from Jotunheim?”

An attendant stepped forward. “They consider themselves at war with Asgard, my king, and will only cease hostilities if they receive recompense for what they call Asgard’s crimes, my king.”

“And what would that recompense be?”

“The Casket of Ancient Winters.”

A low murmur broke out as the assembled Asgardians showed various degrees of outrage. Thor, however, remained silent and stared with steely eye ahead.

“Silence!” called Odin. He was quickly obeyed. “We will have to make preparations for a long war. Our warriors proved themselves well in this attack, but worse may still come.”

“We could just give them the casket,” said Thor. His words were followed by a deadly silence, as all eyes turned to him in shock. “It is theirs,” he continue, not deterred by this frosty response. “And if that’s what it takes to end hostilities…”

“That is not an option,” said Odin. His voice made clear that there was to be no argument on the topic. “But before we can prepare properly for war, I must speak with my son and the gatekeeper alone.”

All filed out of the room apart from Thor, Heimdall and Frigga. Sif gave Thor a curious look when she passed, but he was staring straight at the king with determination oozing out of him.

“And now,” said Odin when they had left, “we must deal with the subject of the insubordination of Asgard’s gatekeeper.”

Ah, that was his call. Heimdall’s golden eyes fixed their gaze on the king. What was his punishment to be? Exile, quite possibly. No gatekeeper had ever been exiled before, to his knowledge. The gift was too rare. What would Asgard do without his eyes to watch the Nine Realms?

“You disregarded my instructions at every turn, gatekeeper,” said Odin, voice booming. Surely he should realise that this show would fail to impress Heimdall. “You knew it was my wish that Loki was not be informed of his heritage -“

“And why is that exactly?” asked Thor and his interjection earned him a look of angry shock from his father. There had been no time for reconciliation between the two, and no time to discuss Loki except to acknowledge his disappearance. That was about to change.

“This is not your time to speak, Thor.”

“I gave Heimdall a direct order,” said Thor, ignoring his father’s command. “I told him to reveal the truth that you had concealed from me. And I told Loki the truth. If you wish to punish anyone, it should be me.”

Odin’s rage had faded to irritation. “That is not your decision to make. Heimdall knew exactly what he was doing, and only a naive boy would think otherwise.”

“He fulfilled his duties as best he could,” said Thor. It warmed Heimdall to see just how staunchly defensive the prince was being of him. More than he deserved, in all likelihood.

“And I find that performance to be lacking.”

Now Thor was growing frustrated. “We are about to engage in war with Jotunheim!” he said, taking a half-step forwards. “If you will not return the casket to them, they will resist. Do you truly want to fight this battle without the eyes of the gatekeeper to watch our enem- to watch the frost giants for us? Or do you have any other candidates who have the sight, stashed away until you might have use of them?”

There was an unmistakable bitterness to the words, yet it _was_ hard to deny their truth. Odin was quite still for a moment, mulling over his verdict.

“The gatekeeper may return to his post for now,” said Odin. “My son is right that your duties are still required.”

“Thank you, my king,” said Heimdall, bowing his gold clad head slightly as his eyes met the kings’ for the briefest of instants.

“Leave now, Heimdall,” said Odin. “But do not think you are forgiven.”

Heimdall did as he was told. He was probably lucky, he thought, as he passed the gates and turned around the corner to be out of sight from the king.

Frigga followed him out of the throne room, leaving Thor and his father to discuss their business alone. Heimdall did not watch them - it did not seem his place.

“My queen,” he said demurely, but continued walking.

“How arrogant you still are,” said Frigga, keeping step with him. “How easily you believed that you understand my sons better than I do. Even when I told you that your actions were ill thought-out, you pressed on.”

“I apologise if you feel I did not do right by -“

“Spare me the weasel words,” said Frigga, as irritable as her husband. “I _know_ that you’re playing some greater game here, even if I don’t know what it is. I would hope you at least reflect a little on what you’ve done.”

“I will do so.” They were now a fair distance from the throne room and Heimdall stepped out onto one of the balconies that looked down onto Asgard and beyond. “And I _am_ sorry for what I have put your family through.”

Frigga inclined her head in acceptance of the apology, irritation softening into something different. Accepting his apology as earnest. “There’s much to be sorry for. On all our parts, I imagine.” She brought her hands together, fingers of one hand resting lightly on the wrist of the other. “Yet I still tried to do what was right, whatever you may believe. Do you think I enjoy putting what is good for Asgard over what is good for my sons?”

“I don’t doubt your intentions.”

“So merely the decisions I make.” Frigga held herself in regal melancholy as she stared out into space. “My son may be lost to me forever. Even if he still lives… And I must continue to serve in the knowledge that I failed as a mother.”

“You acted in ways you thought best befit your responsibilities.”

“As, I am sure, did you. It is our burden that we are cursed to ever put those responsibilities before those we love, is it not?” She turned to Heimdall, contemplating him with those piercing eyes she had passed on to her younger son in spirit, as he sought to suppress the rush of emotions and memories.

“Yes,” he said eventually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last update will come by end of this week!  
> Kinda cool how I actually managed to stick (more or less) to my update schedule. But yeah, this is properly wrapping up now. Do continue to leave nice comments, they give me strength and life!


	18. 9.2

To Maria’s shock, she still hadn’t been fired.

Maybe it was all a little too hectic. They needed someone to take care of the clean-up and… well, it was one hell of a clean-up. Things had not remained a secret this time. These events could not fade into the realm of rumours. It was all out there now, recorded way too often to make disappear and all over every social media site and hundreds of news organisations before the battle was even over.

 _We are not alone in the universe_ , people realised. Followed by, _Wait, the god of thunder? Seriously?_

This was going to take some getting used to.

A few days later, she faced Coulson again, sitting in this make-shift office provided for them in Tønsberg. The Norwegian government wasn’t best pleased with them. Neither was the American government. But for the most part, the general public wasn’t focused on SHIELD. They were focused on the massive aliens that had appeared in the middle of a small Norwegian town.

“The footage is everywhere by now,” said Coulson. “We never had a chance of suppressing it.”

“So everyone knows now.”

“They know something happened. They don’t know how to understand it.”

“Does anyone?”

Coulson conceded the point with a smile. “What about the frost giants?”

“We’ve gotten the authority to bargain directly with Jotunheim,” said Maria, having just gotten off the phone with Fury.

“That won’t make the Asgardians happy.”

“Tough. Not that anyone’s happy about it. A fair few people here think they should be executed to send a message.”

“But?”

Maria shrugged. “Thor did have a point. Giving them back some of their own should send a powerful message in itself. And it’s not like we have any quarrel with their people.”

“Except for them invading us.” Coulson noticed her raised eyebrows. “I agree with you. I’m just anticipating the reaction.”

“Yeah, well. People will just have to deal with it.”

“There’s a lot to deal with.”

“Brave new world,” said Maria dryly.

“With alien diplomacy. It’s pretty wild.”

“Well, I suppose it’s what we signed up for.”

Coulson snorted. “They must have given you a different brochure.”

The corners of Maria’s mouth twitched. “Worse for the people who never signed up for anything. This’ll change things. And it could go way further. People aren’t ready for this.”

“People adapt. They always do.” Coulson stared out of the window and Maria followed his gaze, resting on the pile of rubble that marked where an Asgardian had thrown a frost giant into a building. “So how does this diplomacy business work?”

“We release one of them with a message for… their leader, or whatever. Hopefully they can get back with whatever they used to get here in the first place. We’ll say we released him as a gesture of good will, and if they’re willing to talk, we offer to give them back their people on the condition that they leave us alone. They don’t mess with us, we don’t mess with them, and as for their beef with Asgard… Well, that’s really none of our business, is it?”

“Smart,” said Coulson, and sounded like he meant it. “There’d be a lot of people in your position calling for retribution.”

“Do you think they’d be right?” asked Maria, trying not to let her doubts enter her voice.

Coulson shook his head. “They’d be dead wrong. We’re going to have to deal with the fact that there’s stuff out there we can’t beat in submission.” He once again offered Maria a smile, comforting and kind. “This is why Fury appointed you, you know.”

“Lack of testosterone?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Maria smiled and looked away, pushing away the complicated mess of emotions: uncertainty, worry, fear, guilt, and a sheer _weariness_ that flooded through her body and put her knees so close to buckling. Only a little longer, then she could rest. Or maybe there would never be any rest. Just the next mission. “Thanks, Coulson.”

She had a lot to be grateful for.

* * *

There was some last bit of business to attend to before they left Norway. Maria, for one, would be glad to see the last of this place. Beautiful country, too many aliens.

Yet now, still in her dingy office, she had to face her brother.

A quick debrief. That was all. Nothing big. That could wait for later.

That was the plan.

So much for the plan.

“Let me guess. You finally want to have the chance to tell me off.”

“Oh, you want to do this now?” asked Maria, striding over to the door and slamming it shut. It had taken her less than a minute to lose her temper. “Then let’s do this now!”

“Fine,” snarled Aaron. “Tell me how disappointed you are in me. That’s all you can ever feel towards me these days -“

“When have I ever told you that? Ever?”

“It’s what you’re thinking!”

“I cannot _believe_ you have the audacity to tell me what I’m thinking.”

“You’re the one who’s furious at me for not following your orders once in -“

“No, what you did is you violated my trust.”

“You didn’t have any trust in me to begin with!”

“I trusted you to not go through my stuff. I trusted you to not use my security clearance to take a jet. I trusted you to make responsible choices -“

“Oh, stop. You’re not my mother.”

“Clearly not - if I were, you might _listen_ to me. You might actually trust me that I’m trying to do what’s right for you -“

“By shutting me out?”

“By protecting you!”

“Yeah, really love to be protected by you staying away from me.”

“I was _always_ there for you! Always!”

“Until you weren’t.”

“ _You_ shut me out.”

“Yeah.” Aaron looked away, scowl deeper than ever. “People do that. And I’m so sorry I didn’t handle it correctly, I’m so sorry I didn’t follow the steps to recovery so carefully laid out for me, that I didn’t have a good cry about it and felt all okay afterwards -“

“I never expected that of you. I told you again and again that whatever you needed, however I could help you, I’d do it.”

“You resented me! I was keeping you away from your perfect job, from your exciting career as the most super most special agent out there -“

“I was never that person. And I never resented you. That day in the hospital… Seeing you lying there, not knowing whether you would recover, it was the worst day of my life.”

“I feel so sorry for you.”

“Oh, fuck you,” said Maria vehemently.

“Yeah, really feeling the love -“

“No, you do _not_ get to do that, not after you screwed me over because you were feeling neglected. It’s your fault Loki had that jet. It’s your fault he got to Tønsberg and it’s your fault aliens invaded. But you can’t accept responsibility for that, can you? Much easier to just blame me.”

“You seriously think he wouldn’t have gotten to Tønsberg anyway? You saw what he’s capable of!”

“Well, you certainly made it a lot easier for him. And in the process, risked your life. And yeah, that does make me furious.” Seeing he was about to interject, Maria raised her index finger threateningly. “No, you zip it. You didn’t just endanger yourself. You endangered a friend who has helped you again and again -“

“Sahar knew what she was getting herself into.”

“That doesn’t make you any less responsible! Again and again you’ve shown yourself incapable of making good decisions. It’s a wonder you ever passed SHIELD’s psych eval in the first -“

“Shut up!” shouted Aaron. “So I was always just a kid, some moron incapable of being trusted? Maybe I should have stayed away. After all, I only ever joined SHIELD because I wanted to make you proud.”

It was like a slap in the face. “You’re blaming me for what happened to you?”

Aaron hesitated, but his face was set. “Maybe, yeah I am.”

Maria stared at him, only barely suppressing warm tears. He looked like he was close to walking back on what he had said, to apologising, but it was too late. She shook her head and averted her gaze. “I’m sorry, Aaron: I don’t know how to help you. I didn’t know how to help you and clearly I’ve failed you -“

“I never said that! Maybe the problem is you think I need help -“

“Of course you need help! Or you certainly _did_. And I wasn’t able to provide it and maybe I wasn’t good enough -“

“Maybe, yeah.”

“Yeah. So I guess you can decide if you still want to have a sister. I’ve spoken to Director Fury, and he’s agreed to not prosecute you, but we won’t be working together anymore. So if you want, you can never speak to me again.”

Now Aaron looked like he had been slapped. “We won’t be working… together?”

“You’re certainly not working for SHIELD anymore. Or ever again.” Seeing Aaron’s shocked face, she sighed, the rage having already deflated into resignation. “I really don’t know what you were expecting. Not after what you did.”

“So you are shutting me out. For real.”

“I’m trying to protect you. That’s all I’ve _ever_ done, tried to protect you.”

“You did a great job at it, didn’t you?”

Maria laughed, the sound devoid of humour. “Clearly not. Get out, Aaron. There’s no point in continuing this. Just… get out.”

Aaron looked at his sister with wide eyes for a moment, eyes that begged her to change her mind and run over to him and hug him and hold him tight. But she didn’t, and after a moment, he spun out and left the office. The door slammed one last time.

* * *

Sahar had been lucky. _She’d_ gotten her debriefing from Coulson, not Maria.

Aaron was still reeling when they saw each other again and hugged briefly. They were in the unofficial SHIELD lobby, both still a little bruised but… fine. Not great, certainly not emotionally, but fine.

“How did your conversation with Maria go?”

Sahar winced at the look on Aaron’s face.

“That bad?”

“We argued,” said Aaron shortly, then sighed. “There’s some stuff I don’t know we can ever take back. And she might have a point. About my responsibility for what happened not… the other stuff.”

“Not this again.” Sahar rubbed her nose absent-mindedly just below a plaster. “You can question your actions till the end of the world, who knows when that might come. But we don’t know how things might’ve turned out if we hadn’t gone down. So he couldn’t have taken the jet. But then maybe he would’ve stormed up to SHIELD and hurt them taking a jet. Or taken hostages. Or maybe it would’ve turned out far better. That’s the thing though: we don’t know.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Maybe it’s not meant to be. We acted when we saw an opportunity. And sure, that decision and its consequences is on us. But Loki’s out there somewhere, and maybe we gave him a few more semi-positive interactions with humans to remember. That’s not much. But it isn’t nothing either.”

Aaron nodded, then glanced at her askance. “Are you mad at me?” he asked.

Sahar frowned. “Why would I be?”

“Because I got you into this mess.”

“Nah, my choices got me into this mess. And… It didn’t turn out pretty, but I also know I can’t imagine not having gone through that.”

“Seriously?”

“Look at how fast the world’s changing,” said Sahar with a shrug. “Some of it’s wonderful, and some of it’s pretty terrible. But it’s gonna happen whether we’re there for it or not. So all things considered… I’d rather be at the frontline, wouldn’t you?”

Aaron hesitated, remembering the corpse of the frost giant. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Better us than someone thrilled to be shooting at aliens.”

He smiled, comforted by how easily she could still tell what he was thinking. “Do you think we’ll ever see him again?”

“Loki? I sure hope so.”

So did he. “And what did Coulson say?”

“That I’d get a ride back to Beirut, get my stuff back there. Plus, he offered me a job.”

“You’re kidding,” said Aaron in genuine surprise.

“Nah. Consulting role or whatever in the quickly expanding field of tracking down aliens.”

“And what d’you say?”

“Turned him down.”

“No way.” Aaron gaped at her. “Why?”

“I dunno. I just don’t know whether I’d feel comfortable working for SHIELD,” said Sahar, a touch evasively.

“Why not?”

“Bunch of reasons.”

“So do you want to explain, or…?”

Sahar gave him a thin smile, then gestured at the door. “Let’s take a walk.”

Away from prying ears. Not a bad idea, probably. They had quite a few things to discuss.

* * *

“He’s gone,” said Thor, looking out at this kingdom he would one day inherit. The allure of its golden majesty seemed duller than it had ever been before. The sky looked to hang a little lower as if tempted to suffocate the entire realm. It all seemed so remote from the universe beyond.

Sif stepped forward and put her hand on his shoulder. “You mustn’t blame yourself, Thor.”

The words were spoken in kind sentiment, yet were of little use. The prince looked at Sif and gave her the most honest smile he could muster. “I have heard that it is you I have to thank for keeping Asgard afloat while I withdrew.”

“Speak not of it.”

“How could I not? I was entrusted with the well-being of this sacred realm, yet was solely engrossed with my family’s affairs.” He took a deep breath. “I forgot my duties to think only of my brother, for all the good that did him. As both a king and as a brother, I am a failure.”

“You’re being an idiot,” said Sif, and the harshness of her words got Thor’s attention. He frowned at her. “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Were you to go back in time and ask your father to speak earlier with Loki? Or to prevent Loki’s prank? How exactly do you imagine you could have changed things?”

“I could have been better.”

“Perhaps. But you won’t be any better by obsessing over the past.”

Thor wasn’t convinced by her words, but he knew there was little point in arguing with her. He stared out at Asgard once more, trying to imagine what Loki had seen when he had stood here. Had he loved this world? Or had he always seen it as little more than a horrid prison?

“I just wonder…” Thor shook his head slowly, his conversation with his father still weighing heavily on his mind. “I think back and I should have been able to _tell_. Not about… About how angry Loki was.”

Sif’s forehead creased.

“Did you…”

She closed her eyes for an instant, and to Thor’s surprise they were a little wet when she opened them again. “I remember how he was. And how he changed. You cast a great shadow, Thor. And… Perhaps it is sometimes a little harder for you to tell what goes on behind you than for the rest of us.”

There was no ill feeling in those words, and yet they were still damning. All the more so for how true they felt. Would he ever get the chance…

“Do you think he’s still out there?” asked Thor, both eager for and afraid of her response.

The moment’s silence might have stretched on an eternity.

“I think he is,” Sif said. “Maybe you feel like you’ve lost him… but I think one day you’ll be able to find him again.”

“You’re a good friend, Sif.”

She gave him a sad smile. “The very best there is.”

* * *

Darcy was walking down the corridor to the lobby when she almost ran into Aaron.

“Hey, stranger,” he said with a small grin.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Though I am going down to say goodbye to Sahar, if you want to come?”

“Sure.” They started walking again, Aaron jamming his hands in his pockets. “So did you ever find out how she learned to get past SHIELD security?”

Aaron glanced at her in surprise. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.”

“You did seem pretty astonished at the time.”

He looked away even as the corners of his mouth twitched. “She told me about the person who taught her. I believe her.”

“That’s not vague at all.”

“Fair. But a lot of it’s still plenty mysterious to me too.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

Aaron shrugged. “I have to be. I understand why it’s a detail she kept from me. It’s connected to… how we met.”

“And how _did_ you meet?” asked Darcy, never particularly good at hiding her curiosity.

He smiled a tad apologetically. “That’s a story for another time.”

Sahar greeted them both warmly in the lobby. “Proper send off party.”

“You’re going back to Beirut?” asked Darcy.

“Yeah. Even getting my stuff there, apparently.” She looked at Aaron. “Sure you don’t want to come back with me?”

Aaron shook his head with some regret.

“What are you going to do now?” Darcy asked of Aaron.

“Work with Jane and Erik,” he said. “SHIELD’s returning all their stuff and… man, they have so many cool things. And I think my work could really help them.”

This was news to Darcy but it did kind of please her. “Cool stuff. Guess I’ll be seeing more of you.”

Aaron nodded enthusiastically, before turning to Sahar.

“I will really miss you, though.”

She shook her head lightly. “Won’t be the last time we’ll see each other. And hey, it was fun to have you around. But this does sound like a pretty cool opportunity.”

“And what will you do?” asked Darcy.

“There’s not really a big change of plans, honestly. Starting my masters, see how that goes.”

“And then?”

Sahar shrugged. “How would I know?” A smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “Everything’s happening so fast these days. Who knows where any of us will be in two years, right?”

“Right. Still, can’t imagine you’ll be content with the quiet life,” said Aaron.

“Well, there are aliens out there. Don’t know whether any of us will be having a quiet life. And who knows… People might say a history degree isn’t exactly what you need to tackle the intricacies of alien diplomacy -“

“- but those people would be dead wrong,” finished Aaron, grinning. “Man, I’m really looking forward to seeing you on TV in ten years, representing the UN delegation to Asgard or whatever.”

Sahar snorted. “Steady on,” she said, but did look a little pleased. “Then again, I do have significantly more experience than most in this field.”

“How many people can say they offered an alien emotional support?”

“I mean, that didn’t turn out particularly well for me, but sure. Yeah. I’m owning it.”

Darcy laughed. “Didn’t work out _too_ badly.”

“No, it didn’t.” She threw a glance over her shoulder. “My ride’s here. I’d better go in a moment.” She turned to Darcy. “Will you say goodbye to Jane and Erik for me? And… thanks for everything, really.”

Darcy nodded.

Sahar hesitated before pulling Darcy into a tight hug.

“I feel like we’re at that point,” said Sahar after releasing her, a smile playing across her face.

“Sounds about right,” said Darcy.

“You take good care of him, okay?” said Sahar, nodding her head in Aaron’s direction.

“Hey!” the latter said.

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on him,” said Darcy, ignoring Aaron.

“Right. Time to go.”

“I’ll walk you to the jet,” said Aaron.

“No need,” said Sahar. She stepped over to him and embraced him. Darcy noticed that she whispered something in his ear.

They parted but Sahar still clasped his arms firmly. “You better stay in touch.”

“I will,” he said grinning warmly but not without some sadness.

She turned around and left, backpack slung over shoulder, Aaron staring after her. She didn’t look back.

“Want to go find Jane and Erik?” asked Darcy.

Aaron nodded.

* * *

It was time to disappear.

He knitted the magic that hid from Heimdall just a little tighter so that it enveloped him, each dark strand knotted together so that the mist completely obscured him more entirely than it ever had before. That shroud of magic fell over him and erased him from existence, and with it all traces of him as if he never had walked the Nine Realms, and never would.

And with those traces, so too was his past swallowed up. The person he had been, slowly fading away until Loki Odinson was only a memory. And now? What was even left now that he had nothing, had no one? No name and no home. Somehow still alive. Denied death and forced to find a new path for himself.

Maybe it was time to find out what that path would be.

* * *

Had things really gone better than they would have otherwise?

The question haunted Heimdall as he stared out at the universe. For one thing was clear: this had not been a success.

If he could do it all over again, what would he do? Maybe take Loki aside and tell him the truth. Why hadn’t his future self told him to do that, instead of following a path of action that seemed designed to push Loki to the edge? Had his future self truly had so little sense? Or had he over-estimated his own judgement?

If he could do it all over again, he would do so. But what if that was the ultimate fool’s errand? What if there wasn’t a perfect way? He could be trapped playing over events over again and again, perhaps never finding even a better path. Only stumbling into ever more terrifying versions of the past.

War with Jotunheim. Loki vanished. Asgard weakened, perhaps permanently. No, there was no success to be found here.

So for now… He had to remain vigilant, for he could not believe catastrophe had been averted by the changes he had made. His future self had truly trusted him so much - no, that was wrong. Driven by desperation, more like. And that desperation would keep him fighting until death took him.

By stumbling blindly through the roads of time. How ironic, for a supposedly all-seeing watcher.

Was this to be his fate now? Second-guessing himself every moment of his existence? All this while he had to be cautious - if he disobeyed the throne again, things would surely be over for him. For now the prince protected him, but that couldn’t last.

Maybe nothing could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finished!!
> 
> First things first, there ~~should be a sequel and I should be able to start posting September-ish~~ is a sequel which is [posting now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16245305/chapters/37979111)! but at a considerably slower pace than I have done this one because… responsibilities. But I do have a lot of fun plans with somewhat less angst involved.
> 
> I’m really glad I actually managed to plan and write and finish this so maybe I’m getting better at not just abandoning projects. But honestly, a lot of that’s to do with all the nice comments I’ve gotten. Positive feedback is actually ~really~ rewarding, who would have guessed? So thanks for those, they really are nice to read and an amazing motivator to keep going with this.
> 
> Keep an eye on my Ao3 & my [Tumblr](https://arimabat.tumblr.com) for me preparing for the expanded cast of the next one and possibly some stuff I ended up cutting from this fic that I’m still pretty fond of. Do please leave comments/send asks/interact in unspecified way. And thanks for reading this far!


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